The Choice
by lissvarna
Summary: post Hunger Games. Peeta & Katniss share one night together on the train. In D. 12, she rekindles her friendship with Gale- and maybe more. But she can't forget that night on the train with Peeta, either. Then she gets news that changes her life.
1. Chapter 1

I move quietly through the house, scanning the rooms for my bow and finally finding it up against the fireplace. I swing it onto my shoulder, pick up my water bottle and a small sack of nuts and berries and head out for the day.

It's early and Prim and my mother are still tucked away in their plush beds in our new home in Victor's Village. I secretly miss when Prim and I slept together in our old home in the seam, but I'm glad for Victor's Village. I'm glad even though I can't stand it. For them, it's a serious upgrade, full of the comforts they couldn't have dreamed of before. For me, it's a reminder of all of the people I murdered and saw murdered in the arena. And now a reminder of the certain punishment that is to come.

The sun is coming up as I walk out the door. Gale won't be at our spot for a while, but I'm looking forward to a little time alone. I notice that with the orange-red sun rising in the background, District 12 almost looks pretty.

I pass Peeta's house and inadvertently lower my head, even though I'm sure he's sleeping and wouldn't notice me even if he were awake upstairs. We haven't been alone together hardly at all since the train, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm avoiding him, he's avoiding me, or both.

As I'm trudging through the town, I smell a delicious scent of rich, fresh bed. _Peeta's up,_ I realize. It's too late for me to bypass the bakery so I try to slip by quietly.

But there he is. Outside, sweeping the leaves that encompass the steps to the shop. He seems to notice me instinctively and looks up.

There's a moment where neither of us say anything. But we've inadvertently caught each other's eyes, and it seems difficult to break away.

"Hi," he finally says, quickly looking away. "Headed to the woods?" He says again, but focuses on the broom in his hands.

"Yeah," My voice sounds so strange, and I wish I could offer him more than 'yeah', but it's all I can muster.

He walks inside the bakery suddenly and I wonder if he's done with this conversation, but hesitate to leave.

Then he comes out with a fresh loaf of bread. He meets my eye and throws it gently toward me. I catch it and cannot help but offer a very slight smile, reminded of that day in his backyard.

"Thanks, Peeta. See you," I say and turn around.

"See you."

My time alone in the woods is less relaxing after my run in with Peeta, because my mind is racing again, flooded with the memories I've been trying to stifle. We've been home about a month. It's just this last week that I've been able to forget about what happened. To at least temporarily think about other things.

Because what happened is just so complicated. Well, maybe not what happened. I guess what was easy. Everything after is what's been so difficult.

I open my pack and take out the fresh bread, and its scent wafts through the air. Sure enough, it's loaded with nuts and berries. I break off a chunk and it is as delicious as I remember it.

I miss Peeta very much. I miss his arms around me, I miss hearing him laugh. I miss sleeping next to him. Mostly, I think, I just miss his presence. This is why even these last few weeks, I take any chance to have a "meeting" with Peeta and Haymitch; I want to be around him. I just don't know what to say.

It was the night after one of our victory speeches when the old man, and others, had been murdered after Peeta and me left the stage. I had tip toed down the hall and opened the door to Peeta's room without even knocking after I was too tired to sob anymore, terrified of what awaited us and everyone else I'd hurt in my wake.

"Hey," He'd said, quickly realizing I'd be crying. "Are you okay? Come here," and I remember him immediately taking me into his arms, without question. Like he couldn't stand my pain any better than I could.

As we lay there, I thought about how he'd pledged to give a month of his winnings to the families of Rue and Thresh. I knew it'd never happen; we'd either be dead before it could or the Capitol would prohibit it. But I couldn't find words for what his sentiment meant to me, for what it meant to everyone. So I kissed him.

In the peace and silence of the woods, my mind goes back to that night.

He kissed me back, surprise all over his face.

"Katniss?" I think he wanted to say more, but I knew what he was asking.

"What you did for Rue, for Thresh," I start. "Thank you Peeta. Thank you."

"You know they'll never get any of it," Peeta says. "But I'd give them that and more, if I could."

"I know. Maybe we can do something for them? Try to send whatever we can, before the Capitol stops us?"

"Maybe. We can try. Let's try?"

"Okay," I agree. "We'll send something. When we get back, first thing."

I kiss him again. His face lights up when he realizes I'm going to, but his kiss is still slight and careful.

"I feel like we're back in the cave again, with all this kissing," Peeta says with a smile.

I laugh a little, the mood now lightened. And I blush, because I'm kissing him for real now. It's not the first real kiss for me, but it's the first one he can say for certain is not for any cameras.

Thinking about this, I say, "A little different this time," and I realize the implication I've made after it's too late.

I put my lips to his again. He kisses me back, but it's very guarded and unsure. I wonder if he still thinks that this is part of the show, even here in his room where it's just us.

"Please kiss me back," I say. And that must be all he needs to hear, because he does.

I remember the night so well, the feeling of his soft hands running up and down my back, cradling my head as we kissed. I could tell he was enjoying every moment like they might be the only moments with me he got.

I pulled away and looked at him, studying him. His hair fell in on his forehead, out of place, and his eyes were bluer than ever. He sighed and confusion was everywhere, in every crevice of his face.

"Why are you doing this, Katniss?"

_Great question_, I think. I wait to answer, thinking maybe something will come, but it doesn't. So I say the only thing that makes any sense.

"I don't know. Trust me?" I ask, and it takes us right back to the night with the berries.

"Ok. I trust you," He says, after pausing for a moment. The look on his face is still uncertain, but this time he kisses me hard, passionately, like he means it.

The feeling spreads from my chest all throughout my body, down my legs, arms. My arms tingle when he touches them. Every time they're separated, my lips seek his out in desperation.

I realize I'm losing a little of myself in this moment. I am losing some of carefulness, some of my hesitance. My normal walls have crumbled in the wake of what's happening. Logically, I know this is a mistake; that nothing good will follow but more confusion and hurt. But it feels good right now. And that's all that matters to me.

Then I'm taking his shirt off, and mine, too. The feeling of skin on skin is almost too much for me, and I moan out in pleasure. I can't help it; I've never felt this kind of sensation in my life. I rub against him, reveling in it.

His eyes are glazed over with lust and love, as he watches me enjoy his body. I think he's finally done fighting me on this. After all, he's a teenage boy. If this is so unbelievable for me, I can't imagine how it feels for him.

"Katniss," he moans, like he's reading my thoughts.

"Take off your pants," I hear myself suddenly saying. "Now."

His eyes widen, hearing me say this and understanding what it means. Peeta gets that this isn't another cave situation. That I want more.

Soon we're both lying there, naked. I watched him scan my body when I removed my bra and underwear, taking every inch of me in. He watched me wide eyed and fascinated, like my body was piece of ancient art.

The only thing that was bothering me was the constant look of love in Peeta's eyes. Lust was there; you couldn't miss it. Passion was there and he was hungry for me. And I thought at some point the lust would win out and I wouldn't constantly be aware this person was in love with me, but it was always in his eyes, even at the height of his pleasure. Always making me feel guilty.

But I ignore this and continue, because the moment is undeniably perfect. I lay on my back and flip him on top of me. I position him to enter me, and suddenly I'm nervous. I didn't expect to lose my virginity on a train during the hunger games victory tour. Really, I didn't know if I'd ever be intimate with anybody.

But here I am, staring into the blue eyes that saved my life. The boy that had a crush on me for most of his life, whose name just happened to be pulled out of that drawing to meet me on stage. The boy with the bread. This person who changed my whole life. I'll surely break his heart after tonight, because I'm not someone with anything to offer him.

And so I tell him, "Peeta, I'm glad it's going to be you."

His expression is serious and intense, and I feel like the gravity of the moment is hitting him, too. After what seems like an eternity he leans down and whispers in my ear, "It couldn't have been anybody but you."

Warmth from his words rushes over me, and then there he is, slowly entering my body. It hurts, but I know even a slight wince will make him stop, so I bite my lip and encourage him to continue. He moans softly as the length of him enters me.

He must have noticed my well-concealed discomfort though, so he stops. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I say, and it's true now. The pain has morphed to a feeling of delicious fullness, and I want him to move inside me, to press up against the sensitive spot above my opening as he does.

We move together, moaning softly. I'm running my hands through his air, gripping his shoulders aggressively, encouraging him on. He's pressing into me, making luscious sounds and breathing over my earlobe. I thought I couldn't possibly be more turned on than I was earlier; I was wrong.

He figures out how to hit the spot I like while he moves right away. And I realize he's been concentrating on my pleasure the whole time. I pulse against him almost uncontrollably, forcing the feeling to heighten and heighten until I'm over the edge. I moan, and loudly. The first moan loud enough for someone outside of this room to hear. My orgasm is long and intense; I grip him tightly while it overtakes my body. When I look at his face, I can't miss the small, proud smile.

And then, he's moving faster, breathing heavy, and looks down at me. I give him a devilish smile and grab his face with my hands. "Go ahead," I whisper.

I feel him shudder and release inside of me. Then he falls on top of me, nuzzling into the crook of my shoulder, breathing heavily.

I wrap my legs and arms around him, kissing his neck and stroking his hair. I'm so thankful for all of this pleasure during this nightmarish time of my life. I can't help but shower him in kisses and caresses.

_This is probably too much, _I think about all the affection I'm showing him and how it will surely lead to hurt. _But we deserve it. Just tonight, we both deserve to feel everything that's good. _

"Hey, Catnip,"

My mind is snapped back to reality at the sound of his voice. I smile. "Hey, Gale."

"Ready?" His handsome face returns my smile.

"You know it." And we head out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Time passes so slowly. Life in District 12 goes on, but I'm constantly waiting, worrying about what is to come. There's no way the Capitol will let what we did go. Well, what I did. But Peeta's case isn't so good now either, after the gift he offered to Rue and Thresh's families in District 12.

_You should have told him_, I think to myself. _He could've been totally spared, if not for what happened in 11._ Everyone believed he was in love with me during the games and, looking back on the footage, I can see why. If that incident hadn't happened during the Victory Tour, I don't think I'd have to worry about Peeta's fate. But I do.

The days I spend hunting with Gale are better than the others, at least. Since he's working in the mines, we normally only go out on Sundays, but we also eat dinner together a couple of times a week. Sometimes Prim and my mother join us.

The first time he kissed me was just last week. We were laughing about something in the woods and then his lips were on mine. I didn't expect it, but I kissed him back. I was fascinated by the feelings of my best friends lips. _Best friend._ That's still how I thought of him.

But I knew he wanted more. I saw it in his eyes the moment we hugged when I returned to District 12. And I realized how much I had missed him. I felt loyal to the boy who had helped keep me alive all those years, but I also realized he wouldn't have had the chance if it weren't for Peeta, throwing me the bread that gave me hope.

When we pulled away from the kiss, I looked up into his deep, dark eyes. He was so handsome. And so protective of me. No doubt, I loved Gale. I knew it didn't feel like kissing Peeta in the cave, or that night on the train, but I thought it would, eventually. Gale silently asked me to give us a chance that day. My response was an embrace, a silent _yes, I will._

I give the door a light knock and walk in. Hazelle's back is turned to me, cooking at the stove.

"Hey, Hazelle," I smiled to her. "Smells delicious."

"Thanks to you, Katniss," Her smile beams to me from across the room and I feel so lucky that I'm able to do this for their family. Besides, it gives me something to do, a reason to keep going, despite my endless anxiety about the future.

I help Hazelle set the table and played jacks with Rory as we waited for Prim and my mother, and for Gale to return from the mines.

"Katniss, could you run over to the bakery and buy a couple loaves for dinner?" Hazelle asks me, handing me a few coins.

I freeze, but remember there's no reason I can't talk to Peeta. I silently assure myself it will be fine, that I can't avoid him forever.

"Okay, Hazelle," I say. "But you keep this," And I had the coins back to her, because Peeta would never charge me for the bread. Plus, I'd pay for it if I had to, rather than take any money from Hazelle.

I take a deep breath as I walk to the bakery, and a wave of dizziness hits me. In any other circumstance I'd assume this is related to my nervousness to see Peeta, but I've been sick on and off for a couple of weeks.

Luckily, I was alone in the woods the majority of times I felt the need to vomit, but Prim walked in on me last week in the bathroom. A worried look immediately seized her face.

"Katniss, tell mom you're sick. I'm sure she can help," She said.

"If it doesn't go away soon, I will. I just don't want to worry her unnecessarily," I had explained.

"OK. Promise, if you still feel sick in a few days, you'll tell her?" Prim has asked.

"I promise."

My dizziness quells on the walk to the bakery, but I suddenly feel a little nauseous. I roll my eyes to myself, more out of annoyance then concern. This time, I'm sure it's because I'm nervous about seeing Peeta.

I walk into the shop and a little bell on the door rings. There's music playing behind the counter, but otherwise, it's quiet. Peeta quickly appears, his face changes from a friendly smile to a surprised one when he realizes it's me.

"I definitely wasn't expecting to see you," He laughs a little, knowing how dramatic his change of expression was when he saw me.

"I know. I never come by," I say.

"Do you have to pay off Prim to always come get your bread for you?" He asks, a glint of humor in his eyes.

I blush, because it's true. Not the paying her part of course, but I do coerce Prim come over to buy bread when we need it. If not, I'll tell my mother I'm going to be in the woods very late, and could she pick it up? I guess I didn't realize Peeta would pick up on it, but now, it seems obvious.

"I…" I have no idea what to say about this. "Peeta," I say, and drop my head. But I want to keep it light so I mimic his tone. "It's not like things have been entirely… comfortable."

"You're telling me," He says with sadness in his voice. When I look into his blue eyes I see the sadness there, too. I want it go away.

"Peeta. I do want to see you. I miss you," I start. "But I don't know what to say. I'm no good with words, not like you are."

He smiles a little. "Well, I have none now."

But then he says, quietly. "I just wish you had been there when I woke up."

I look down immediately, and I'm probably blushing. I had woken up sleepily in bed, shocked when I remembered what had happened. I saw no other option but to leave so I could think about how to handle it alone. It was very early, and Peeta was still sleeping… but even in sleep, I remember detecting a hint of a peaceful smile on his face.

Peeta and I had talked the next day, after dinner, but it hadn't gone very well. I was purposely very cool toward him, very matter of fact. I thought if I were anything but cold and unresponsive, my real feelings—whatever they were—would force their way out. _My emotions haven't exactly been in check lately_, I had thought.

"_It was a mistake," I said. I was saddened by my own harsh words, so I didn't want to even think about how they made him feel. I couldn't look up but he was silent, staring at me, and I was forced to. What I saw was shock and devastation. But after another minute of silence, I was still surprised to see the lone tear running down his cheek._

I felt badly after that night, because I didn't really mean what I said. I meant that it was perfect. I meant that I cared for him deeply. And I meant that despite those truths, I just couldn't give myself to him the way he wanted me to. Yes, Gale was a factor, but it was also many, many other things.

After that night I had wished I said that, instead of saying it was a mistake. But I didn't want to hurt him any more, I couldn't bare it. I wanted to get all the hurt out of the way then and there.

I was warmer to him after that, though. Or at least I'd tried to be. But he's been kind to me in the few awkward moments we've spent together since the train, so I think he's noticed that I'm trying.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do, I thought being alone would help," I said.

"Did it?"

"Not very much."

"Well, I miss you too, Katniss," He says.

"If it had never happened, this wouldn't be like this now. We'd be friends. It would be normal. I wish it never happened. Don't you?," I blurt out.

He shakes his head and looks at the ground. "How can you ask me to say that?"

I suddenly feel angry. "So you're fine with this, then? You don't want to see me? You don't miss how things were, at all?" I'm almost yelling at him now, and my heart races in my chest. When I look up again I'm surprised to see that he looks angry at me, too.

"That is so unfair, Katniss. Of course I want to see you. I've been miserable since we got back. Have you not noticed?" he scowls. "And now you want me to say I regret being with you, but you know I'm in love with you! I'm not going to say what you want me to hear. Not this time. It was perfect and I am glad it happened."

I am silent.

"Do you need something?"

I pull coins out of my pocket, and put the price for two loaves on the counter without saying anything. He hands me the loaves and pushes the coins back toward me. I can't find any words and I just stand there, speechless.

"Go have dinner now, Katniss," he says quietly, and disappears into the back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

My head spins on the walk back to the Hawthorne home. It seems like a very short distance to work out all that's going on in my mind. I guess I assumed Peeta would go out of his way to pacify me always. I didn't consider that he'd someday grow sick of it and say what he means.

I open the door, and everyone is there now: Gale, his siblings, Hazelle, my mother, Prim. I am among the people who mean the most to me, and still I have to force a smile.

I do feel a little better when I see Gale's smiling face. I set the loaves on the table and take my seat between he and Prim. "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know. Just your average day in the center of the earth. Uneventful."

Everyone giggles a little, and the tension that followed me inside seems to have vanished. We eat rabbit with greens and the rich seeded bread I brought from the bakery. Rory, Prim and Posy chat about a hated teacher at school, and Rory teases Posy about the boy who likes her. "He does not!" she said irreverently.

The lighthearted mood of the kids makes me feel a little bit better. The food is delicious. I couldn't admit this to my mother, of course, but Hazelle's cooking is the best I've ever had… besides the Capitol's obnoxiously elaborate meals, of course.

After dinner, we all help Hazelle clean up. We gather into the living room and play charades, filling the house with laughter. The way our families come together seems to fill the void that's left in both of them. Even though our new house is much larger, we always come over here for supper. It feels more like home.

At 8 o'clock, my mother says she should get to bed, and Gale walks us across town to Victor's Village. My mother and Prim say goodnight and slip inside quietly, leaving us alone.

"Night," He says, leaning in for a kiss. I kiss him back, and he embraces me, deepening the kiss. I pull away and offer him another peck on the lips instead. Any more would be too much for me tonight.

When I'm walking in he says, "Catnip, is everything okay?"

I'm not facing him now, so he doesn't see the expression on my face. But I turn and give him a confident smile. "I've felt a little sick today, that's all."

He kisses my forehead. "Get a good nights sleep, ok?"

"Will do." I smile and walk inside.

On the walk to my room, my mother quietly calls out my name, but I pretend I didn't hear. Maybe she could tell I was upset when I got to Gale's and wants to talk. Maybe she's wondering if I've heard anything new about what's going on in the Capitol. Regardless, I can't talk to anyone tonight. I collapse on the bed, emotionally and physically exhausted.

I fall asleep right away, and eight hours seems to fly by, because I wake up groaning and sleepy. And sick. I just barely make it to the toilet when I feel the bile rising in my throat. The force is powerful and I heave over the bowl, miserable. After I slump back defeated, a face appears at the door.

"Prim," I moan. "I'm fine." I can't stand to worry her, as bad as I feel.

But she says nothing, only gives me a concerned look and slips out of the doorway. A minute later, she comes back with a slim box in her hand. She pulls out a long plastic stick, thicker on one side than the other, and hands it to me.

I'm confused. "What is-" I stammer, and stop when I realize what she's holding.

A pregnancy test.

I quite literally see my life flash before my eyes.

I hadn't even considered the possibility of pregnancy. I'd been so flooded with other worries that the most terrifying idea of all had not even crossed my mind. _It will be negative,_ I assured myself. But I still can't believe my carelessness.

I was aware of how babies were made, wasn't I? I was 17 years old! I cannot reason how precaution never entered my mind that night, nor how I'd not even wondered about it since. Had Peeta? Did he entirely forget this possibility, too? I silently promise I'll never act so foolish again. _If I ever even have sex again_, I think. So far I'm not sure it seems worth it.

I finally remember that I should say something.

"Prim," my cheeks are flushed and red. "There's no way. Don't worry about that."

"There's no way, Katniss? If there's really no possibility, than I don't want to waste one of moms tests."

I don't say anything.

"Katniss," She says, cocking her head to the right. "Is there a possibility?"

I realize my little sister is talking to me like a mature adult, while I cower and pretend I have no idea what she could mean. I admire her qualities of openness and maturity. It'd be nice if I had either.

So I say, "Yes. It's possible."

Prim exhales, a confirmation of her thoughts. But she doesn't ask who, where, or when, which leaves me feeling relieved. "Alright then. Do you know how to do it?"

"Pee on the stick?"

"Yes," her face is serious, but she smiles a little at my comment. "Then it just takes a couple of minutes for results."

"Ok, Prim. I promise, everything is fine. I'm not pregnant. But I'll take it if it will make you feel better," I say, but I sound more like I'm trying to convince myself than Prim that it's not true. If I stop for a second to count the weeks or analyze my symptoms, I'll be too frozen with fear to even continue. I smile confidently and shut the door.

I urinate clumsily on the stick, and immediately place it flat on the counter. I find Prim in the living room, rubbing Buttercup's chin. She looks up at me for an answer.

"I haven't looked," I admit. "I'm scared."

"I will," she says, and I want to stop her but it seems like I don't have a choice. I don't want to know, that's a certainty. My life simply cannot go on if I'm carrying a child.

Prim comes out of the bathroom. She seems to be moving painstakingly slow as I hear her footsteps coming toward me. When she stops I can't look up.

"Katniss. You're pregnant. That's why you're sick."

My mind feels fuzzy, unable to comprehend what's happening. I've only been awake for 20 minutes, but how drastically my life has changed. How quickly it has become not worth living.

I find myself sliding off the chair, ending up slumped against the wall, defeated. I still feel nauseous, but can't bring myself to walk back to the bathroom. I vomit right there on the floor. When my eyes meet Prim's for just a second, I can see she looks scared. She offers her hand to me and pulls me over to the couch, laying me down and covering a blanket over my shaking body. She appears with a rag and bucket to clean the mess.

After, when she sees that I'm sobbing, I find her wedging in next to me on the couch. She lies behind me with her arm around my waist. Her hands stroke my knotted hair, and I find my convulsing body calm right away. I'm confused and still so tired, emotionally worn down. I think about all my symptoms the last few weeks: nausea, dizziness, fatigue. I'm not a healer like Prim and my mother, but I hate myself for not suspecting this.

Because it came like a brick to the face. Like Prim's name being called in the reaping. The reaping which my child will surely be called in someday, I think to myself bitterly. Like the elevator in the mine, which came up without my father in it. I wish just once in awhile I had the opportunity to prepare for devastating news, but it's always quick and harsh.

I wake up hours later in my bed. My world is shattered again when I open my eyes and remember the pregnancy test. I search the bed for Prim, and when I call out her name softly, she's there.

"Hey, little duck," I smile wearily.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty awful," I say honestly.

"Katniss… do you mind if I ask…"

"Peeta. It's Peeta's."

Prim smiles inadvertently before returning to her solemn expression. I wonder if she'd been fooled like the rest of Panem, if she couldn't help but feel happy that the star-crossed lovers of District 12 were having a child. Then again, if anyone knows me, it is Prim. It's possible she knows things about me that I don't about myself.

"It's ok, Prim. Smile if you want. I won't hold it against you," I say, rubbing her back. It would be unreasonable to expect Prim to be as horrified about what's happening as I am. She's maternal, I'm not. She's not yet entirely jaded; Prim still has hope for the world. After my fathers death, our near starvation and finally, the Games, I do not.

"I'm not exactly. I know you never wanted kids, Katniss. I understand why. It's just when I think of the little baby growing inside of you, I can't help but feel good."

This makes me smile, because Prim is so sweet and loving. No, I won't force her to hate this as much as I do. After all, it's the thought of losing her that made me never want to have children. To never cherish anyone else the same way, because to not love is to not lose. It seemed like my plan had been shattered.

"Are you going to tell him?" She asks.

"I… I haven't thought about it," I reply. It's true. I don't know why, but I can't seem to think about what it would be like to tell Peeta. _Could I not tell him?_ I wonder to myself. Does he have to know?

"You have to tell him, Katniss," Prim says, reading my mind.

"I know."

"Go back to sleep for now?" She offers. "If mom asks, I'll tell her you had a little fever and you're just resting for the day. I'll be here if you need me. Me and Buttercup,"

She smiles devilishly, knowing I hate the cat.

"Thanks little duck. I love you,"

"I love you, too," She says, and shuts the door gently.

This time, it's not nearly as easy to fall asleep, even though I'm still exhausted. I think about telling my mother, Peeta, Gale. Haymitch, Hazelle, even Greasy Sae. On top of having a child growing inside of me, I have to admit to everyone what I did on the train, essentially. _Everyone in District 12 has seen the Girl on Fire parading around with Gale,_ I decide, even though I've tried to be discreet so as not to make them think I was anything but in love with Peeta.

But I also realize how obvious it's been that I've been avoiding him. I bet everyone knows that too. And soon they'll all know that despite dating Gale, I'm carrying Peeta's child. I feel a deep shame course through my body.

Gale. How will I tell him? He doesn't know anything happened on the train, and I never planned to tell him. The last time we kissed in the woods, he had come dangerously close to cupping my breast. The way he kissed me confirmed he wanted more, and soon. He missed me and thought he'd lose me forever. I understood his pace. But after the flood of emotions and confusion on the train, I thought I should wait to sleep with Gale. To be sure I was ready.

Sometimes, he asks about Peeta. I can tell he's a little insecure, a little worried that some of my feelings in the Games were real. I never know what to say because I never figured out how I felt about what happened. I thought eventually, he'd stop asking. And now this.

I suddenly think back to my conversation with Prim. When I said Peeta, she smiled. I realize she was happy I was pregnant with Peeta's child and not Gale's. My face contorts with confusion. She's known Gale for years. He protected her when I couldn't. And since I've been home, we've been eating most of our dinners with his family. Surely, she'd prefer if this baby were Gale's, wouldn't she?

I think again about how Prim knows me better than I know myself. But I don't know what it, or anything, means. After hours of my mind racing, I finally wear it out, and drift off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_Note: This chapter deals with some sensitive issues, just want everyone to be aware. Thanks again for reading! Also, I'm short on time right now, so I apologize in advance for any spelling errors—I didn't have a chance to double check. Enjoy and I'll try to update again soon._

**Chapter 4**

On Sunday morning, and I find myself contemplating about whether or not I should go into the woods to meet Gale. He knows I've been sick, so I know I won't worry him if I don't show.

I haven't left the house in three days. The morning sickness is only off and on, it's my emotional state that's left me trapped inside. Prim convinced my mother I just had a slight flu. She made some suggestions and urged me to take medicine, but didn't press the issue further. Still, I wondered if she wasn't worried about me, or worse, suspicious.

I have not seen Gale, either. I talked to him the phone once to say I wouldn't make it for dinner. He'll be concerned if I don't make an appearance out of Victor's Village soon. I imagine Haymitch has wondered where I've been, too. I try to stop by every few days to make sure he's still alive and clean up the place a little. I even sat and had a drink with him a couple of times, letting him ramble on about the Capitol. I wonder if the strong white fluid hurt the baby. The baby! It's still unreal.

Another reason I haven't left is an intense fear of running into Peeta. Somehow we don't cross paths outside our homes much, even though we live just a few houses apart. I normally run into him by the bakery, actually. But I am very aware of how close he is now, both in proximity to my home and my body.

Since I found out about the pregnancy, I've missed him more than ever before. I feel alone. Only Prim knows. But she's so young, I can't unload my emotional baggage on her. I can't remind her of the Games and the fact that my child will surely be a part of them; I can't explain to her the horrors I saw there that have destroyed my thoughts. And I haven't found a way to tell anyone else that I'm pregnant.

The last time I felt this way was standing on that stage with ridiculous Effie Trinket, looking out on the sad faces of District 12. Until they called the male tribute. Peeta. At first I was mortified that I'd have to kill the boy who threw me the bread, but when he shook my hand, I realized I was not alone up there. When they falsely said there could be two victors. He was there, after I lost Rue, and I wasn't alone anymore. So many times he saved me from the dark corners of my mind. Kissing me in the cave, momentarily shooing away my pain and terror. He'd been there for me every single time I needed him. He was the one I really wanted to talk to now. But he caused all this—_we_ caused all this.

Before Peeta, Gale was always my confidant. And now he's my boyfriend, I think. Or something like a boyfriend. Soon I'll be breaking the news that I'm pregnant with Peeta's child, and then who knows what he'll be. Today.

_Yes, today_, I think, a sudden burst of courage surging through me. I will tell Gale today.

My heart drops in my stomach at this decision. Who knows what he'll be to me after today. Will he be furious? End our… friendship? I guess I haven't thought too much about what Gale and I "are". I think everyone else would call him my boyfriend, albeit a slow moving relationship. If he wants nothing to do with me, what about his family? Does that mean he won't want me to help take care of them, either? It's one thing that's given me purpose since I've been back here in District 12. There's been nothing new from the Capitol in an alarming amount of time, and I've just been waiting for something to happen on my toes. I've thought it might be possible that we'll hear nothing about it until the next reaping. I'm not sure why, but my gut tells me it will be then that I'm forced to pay for my actions.

I count to myself in my head. It's easy to figure out how far along I am considering I've only had sex once. _What luck,_ I think, getting pregnant the first and only time I've been intimate with someone. _This would only happen to me._ The next reaping is 6 months away, which would make me 8 months pregnant. I think about standing up on stage, huge and humiliated. I guess it makes no sense for me to feel badly about it. In fact, me pregnant with Peeta's baby might be exactly what the Capitol wants. Could this save my life? My family's life? I haven't even considered the thought. It's a little too convenient though, for me to be that far along right around reaping time. Will they think Peeta and I devised the pregnancy plan to prevent me from being killed? And if they think that's the case, will my punishment be even worse?

I've yet to think about the life growing inside me as a person I care about. Peeta would. He would care about this person. I feel guilty for feeling no love for it, but oddly reassured when I remember Peeta would love it. At least it isn't completely unwanted and unloved.

By now, I'm up and on my way to the woods. If I don't go now, I won't go at all and if I don't go, I won't tell Gale I'm pregnant. And if I don't tell him today I'll never tell anyone ever. Adrenaline moves me out the door, through Victors Village, passed the hob and on my way to the edge of town.

"What'da you up to, sweetheart?" The words interrupt my mind. Haymitch, buying liquor. More alarming is Peeta there next to him, holding his arm to steady him.

"I'm going to the woods," the words come out in an odd, frenzied way. Yes, I'd normally be annoyed at a more-than-usual inebriated Haymitch and would be awkward around Peeta, but my whole demeanor sends a signal that something is obviously not right.

"Jesus, she's a Hunger Games winner, barely, and still breakin' the law," Haymitch says, although he's well aware I've been hunting often since we got back from the Victory Tour.

I make a conscious effort sound normal. "Go get some sleep, Haymitch. It's Sunday morning," It was odd for him to be up so early after all. And why was Peeta even with him? I've totally ignored Peeta as I turn around and start to walk away.

"Not even saying hello anymore?" I hear his voice say. In his tone there's humor, sadness, and a little anger, all rolled into one.

I turn and stiffly say "Hello."

"Alright," he says, and sadness clearly wins out this time.

My heart pounds in my chest when I walk away from Peeta. There's a major irony in how much I miss him lately, because it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm pregnant with his child. I wish I could take back the night worse than ever, because this wouldn't be happening and he'd still be in my life. I think so, anyway. Would he, knowing I'm spending all this time with Gale? If I could take back the night on the train, would we be friends now?

I guess regardless, he would not be holding me to sleep, which I miss desperately now. I'd spent the night with Gale once, the way Peeta and me used to. It took some time to find the right way to sleep with him, to find the way my body fit into the crevices of his. It took a long time to fall asleep. I couldn't help but think it didn't feel quite right. This was the one time I felt like I was betraying Peeta somehow, even if we weren't on speaking terms. I wanted to feel the same sense of comfort and steadiness in Gale's arms like how I felt in Peeta's. I just thought we needed more time; _I_ needed more time to get used to a life without Peeta before I could completely give myself to Gale. There may not be any more time after Gale finds out about this. And then I'll have lost them both.

The few days since I found out I've been living in a lifeless haze, in the fetal position with the shades drawn. I only went to the dinner table for meals so my mother wouldn't think I was seriously ill. It had been a dull few days to say the least, aside from my racing mind.

Today, I've decided to go hunting, to tell Gale about the pregnancy, left the house, and ran into Peeta and Haymitch. It's all too much to process.

I see Gale sitting on our rock. "Hey," he smiles. "Didn't know if you'd make it. Are you feeling better?"

I sit beside him and he wraps his arm loosely around my waist. "Yes," is all I mutter.

I'm glad I've decided to tell him. I realize there's no way I could have had a normal conversation with him, or anybody else, otherwise.

"Well, I'm not really sick."

Gale tilts his head. "No?"

But I suddenly change my mind a little. I want to go hunting first, to enjoy a morning of normalcy. I'll tell him in a little while. Maybe by the lake, or in the house that my father and I used to spend time in. I need more time.

"Well, yes, I was. I just mean I'm fine now. Ready to go?" I stand up.

I'm so awkward and unconvincing. I stand there meekly, my back slumped. My bow tilts to the side, not totally secured in its case. My braid is messier than usual and bags hang from my eyes, even though I've been sleeping for days. My voice wavers with every word. I'm a terrible liar.

Gale sits firmly, not budging. "No. Not until you tell me what's wrong." I can tell by the tone of his voice that there will be no changing his mind. "You never get sick. And even when you do, you pretend you're fine. You, Katniss, do not lock yourself in the house for three days with the flu."

I sigh and sit down, suddenly exhausted again. I'm not going to argue about this or try to change his mind, but since I don't know how to start I just stay silent.

"Go on. Tell me what's wrong."

"Worse than anything you can imagine. Or anything I could have imagined,"

His eyes widen. "The Capitol? But I just saw Haymitch and Peeta at the hob. Haymitch was drunk, obviously, but they seemed normal otherwise. Did they only contact you? What's-"

His voice is frantic, so I interrupt. "No, Gale, nothing like that. In fact, I haven't heard anything from the Capitol in weeks."

"Oh," and he seems visibly relieved. "Alright. But what is it?"

I'm not sure where to start. I should explain about the train, about Victory speech in 11. About how Peeta promised to give the gifts to Rue and Thresh's family, and the man got shot, and I was overwhelmed and we… and nothing's going on now, nothing at all, but…

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth drops open, and I think about how I've only used that as a descriptive phrase, I've never seen anyone ever do it so literally.

The next word out of his mouth surprises me. "Peeta." He looks shocked and sad.

"Yeah- yes, it's Peeta's, but…"

"I should've known. Why have you been leading me on like this, Katniss? How often are you seeing him?" His voice has raised now. I knew he wouldn't be thrilled that I slept with Peeta, but I'm irritated that this is his first concern. What about my safety in light of this? What about a pregnancy that he's well aware I never wanted to have, not with Peeta or anyone else, ever?

"Gale. I'm not seeing Peeta. Quite literally, I mean we're not even friends anymore. It happened one night on the train. That's it. I can't believe I got pregnant," I say.

Gale's silent. He looks less so, but still a little angry. I feel suddenly overwhelmed, so relieved to have told someone, but more aware than ever of how awful this is.

"I can't be a mother," I say, starting to cry. "I can't be a mother, and I can't bring a child into this awful place. Not after what I've seen. And maybe some other parent could do it, could convince it that this could be a good place to live. But not me. I couldn't do it."

Gale holds me, and I sob in his arms. "I can't do this."

"What if—what if you… gave it to Peeta. He could raise it, alone," Gale offers.

"No," I say, "No, I don't want it in this world. He'd be better than me but, it won't help anything. I'll know it's here and I'll hear it's name called in the reaping when it's 13 years old," I sob dramatically. But it's really how I feel.

After awhile, the sense comes to me to apologize. "Gale, I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear this. I know you and I are… whatever we are… and how unfair this is to you."

Gale's quiet, and I'm not sure what he's thinking.

"Katniss. You don't want to have this baby?"

I'm confused. I think I've been clear about my feelings related to this pregnancy. "No, of course not," I say.

"I know someone," he says.

At first I have no idea what he's talking about. I can't put two and two together, but then I realize what he means.

Abortion isn't illegal in Panem, and I bet it's used without abandon in the Capitol. But in the districts, especially the poorer ones like 12, there's no way to get one safely. The only time I've heard of them being performed was woman trying to give themselves one, usually resulting in their death. So I'm surprised to hear this.

"What—who?" I ask softly.

"Well, I don't know, exactly. She's not into the idea of advertising it or anything. But Thom's sister found out she was pregnant after her boyfriend died in the mine a few years back. Remember that?"

I nod. It was a small explosion, only took a few lives, but I can never ignore mine fatalities after what happened to my father.

"They couldn't feed another mouth without him here," He said. "Don't tell anyone about this, of course. But she went to see a reputable woman in town and she took care of it. She put his sister on bed rest for a few days after, but she was fine."

I don't say anything. I'm glad he's telling me this. I see a window of light suddenly, a possibility for home.

"Look, Katniss. I'm not telling you to do this. And I'll be here for you either way, no matter what happens, I have your back." He kisses my cheek. I smile weakly, because 'I'll have your back,' reminds me of the old days before the games. Me and Gale, just friends, hanging out and hunting in the woods.

And for the first time, I think of Peeta's baby. Imagining it with his blue eyes, or blonde waves. Maybe both? Think of who it would grow up to be. I'd hope it'd be nothing like me. Just Peeta. Gentle but strong. Loving and kind. A baker. An artist. Beautiful, and too good for me.

I silently say apologize to Peeta's child, growing in my stomach, for considering this option. And I realize now that I'm not simply doomed anymore; rather, I have a choice again. I have some power over my fate after all.

Even though this seems to be the answer to all of my worries, to be the out that I've been searching for, I realize suddenly that it's the hardest choice I'll ever have to make.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Gale and I only hunt for a short while that morning. I'm worn out from all of the crying and he seems to be feeling a thousand things all at once, but saying hardly anything. We head back into District 12 with a rabbit and a couple of squirrels. Slow day, but both of our minds are clouded with too many other things for either of us to care.

I walk into Victor's Village, past a few vacant houses, reminders of how Victor's in District 12 are far and few between. No wonder two in one year is a problem. I hear what sounds like pots and pans being tossed around at Haymitch's, but the lights are off and everything seems quiet at Peeta's.

I feel much better and worse than ever after my conversation with Gale. When he told me about the merchant woman who can help me, he gave me power back over my own life. The feeling of doom and certain suffering had lifted. I had control over my own life again, which I needed so badly. I felt strong again.

When I wake up from a long nap that evening, I find myself rubbing my stomach in bed. It is only since I'd realized I could end this pregnancy that I started thinking about it as a person; started almost caring about it. Walking quietly through the woods all morning, I had found myself thinking about it as a boy, but mostly just because I imagined it as Peeta. Peeta's baby, not mine. I've only been able to think of it that way. Part of me wants to get rid of these thoughts. Why is it only now, that I have an escape, that I'm thinking of it this way?

But how easy the choice would be. No one besides myself, Prim, and Gale would have to know. I might just have to tell Prim I lost the baby; I couldn't hurt her by telling her the truth. And I'd never have to tell Peeta. He wouldn't have to watch his child die in the Hunger Games, and he wouldn't have to know that I extinguished its flame that lived inside of me. He could live in peace.

I'd be disappointing Panem, of course. The Capitol especially. How they'd fuss over this pregnancy. Nothing better to do than follow the troubled lives of the Star Crossed Lovers from poor, sad District 12, I think. But they would never have to know either. No humiliation at the reaping. No Capitol officials taking the infant away, ensuring it a life of suffering, so they can kill its mother.

_I know what I'm going to do,_ I think both sadly and triumphantly_._ Yes, I have made a decision. It's just that I owe Peeta's child a couple of days to think it over.

I hear a knock on the door, but from the back of the big house where I sleep, I can't hear who Prim is talking to. The conversation is quick and she shuts the door. I assume it was someone looking for my mother. I haven't eaten since this morning and hunger finally washes over me, strong and demanding. I meet Prim in the dining room.

"Mom will be home from town soon to make dinner," she says. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Sick on and off. Really tired."

Prim gives me an understanding nod, and I'm continually impressed with her maturity. "Hungry?" she smiles.

"Yes. Very."

"Oh, by the way, Haymitch stopped by a little while ago. He looked drunk. I told him you were sick and hadn't left the bed all day. I figured with all that's going on, he'd be the last person you want to talk to,"

"Oh, thanks, Prim…" I trail off, because Prim doesn't know that I saw Haymitch at the Hob bright and early this morning. I was acting strangely, yes, but I was going hunting and obviously not sick in bed. I panic a little, but try to hide it from Prim. She was right after all, he is the last person I'd want to talk to.

My mother comes home, and she and Prim are readying dinner when the phone rings. They look at me expectantly.

"Hello?" I answer reluctantly.

"Well hey, there. I see you made it out of bed- for the _second_ time today!" The laugh that follows is loud and obnoxious. My stomach drops and I roll my eyes simultaneously.

"Yes. I'm feeling better," I say, not wanting to worry Prim or my mother.

"Well, why don't you come on over? Don't give me that sick bullshit, either. And Katniss, I suggest you do come over. I know something is going on," He struggles to sound sober and serious. "Don't make me come over again and get it outta you in front of them, either. Come over."

Prim knows I'm pregnant, but my mother doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way. Maybe he'll just forget and pass out, I think. But it's not worth the scene he could make if he doesn't, and Peeta is just a few houses away. If Haymitch comes over demanding to get in, he'll hear the commotion for sure. Against my better judgment, I go to Haymitch's.

"Katniss, what about dinner?" My mother asks.

"There's something I have to take care of," Is all I say, closing the door.

I walk the short distance to Haymitch's house, without a plan. There wasn't time to think about what I'll say or do. I'll have to think on my feet. I suck a deep breath in and walk inside.

"Hey, sweetheart!" he says and struggles to get out of his chair. "Great to see you. It's been too long."

I care about Haymitch, drunkard and all, mostly because of what he did for me and Peeta in the games. But with the seriousness of the situation that I am in, his antics make my blood boil. Rage bubbles up in me with every word.

"Get away from me," I recoil when he tries to give me a hug.

"Alright, have it your way," and he flops down again, taking a big swig from his liquor bottle.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" I say, my voice bitter.

He smiles. "Well, I see you came over here ready to convince me that everything's fine!" He says sarcastically. My heart pounds in my chest, but I roll my eyes and stay quiet.

"Have a seat," he starts. I pull out a chair next to him. "Now, where shall we start. First, you've abandoned me this week, and it shows," He moves his hand around, showcasing his house which is more disgusting than ever. "Then there's your bizarre behavior this morning. And your faked sickness. Poor little Prim covering for you. You think you could avoid me and I wouldn't figure out something's going on? I'm a drunk, Katniss. Not an idiot," He says, and takes another long gulp to convince me.

Haymitch is drunker than usual today, just as he was this morning at the hob. But there's somehow still a serious tone to his voice and demeanor. He knows more than what he's saying.

"Oh, and the last thing. I know you had sex with Peeta on the train," He said, loudly.

"Haymitch!" I sneer. "Lower your voice!"

"Oh, Christ. That's your concern. Don't you want to know how I know?"

"There's nothing to know," I say unconvincingly.

"Please," He laughs with delight. "I heard it. Actually, I heard you," Now his tone is lightened and his drunk giggle is back.

"Pig. You are a pig, Haymitch," I say. But my face is burning up with redness, and I can't make eye contact with him. I feel silly for being so embarrassed when I have much bigger problems than how loudly I moaned on the train.

"Oh, stop. Not like I was listening for anything. I was just wandering the halls. Couldn't sleep. Remember, bastards cut me off that night?"

That's true. Effie had declared Haymitch wouldn't have another drop until we returned to District 12, which caused quite the commotion of course. She demanded the bar car close and poured his bottles out of the train window. I was so upset about the events of the day I hadn't bothered to pay attention to the aftermath.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Of course, we all knew you slept in the same room. But I could tell by the look on his face every morning that nothing else had happened. But sure enough, that morning he looked giddy at breakfast. That was short lived, huh?" He laughs.

"And by the way, could you be any more obvious about avoiding him? You're supposed to be in love. Which, I thought was lookin' good after that night. You messed it up I'd imagine. Poor kid sulking around here everyday," he slurs. "Anyway, something's going on. And if you expect to be around awhile, I need to know. What's wrong, sweetheart?"

His voice has actually softened, in a half-hearted attempt to be empathetic. I know I have to make a decision now. I tell Haymitch and take his advice. Or I lie, avoid him as long as possible and try to pretend the whole thing never happened. If he weren't such a drunk that would be a viable option. But him making a scene about this around town would be worse.

"What's wrong, is I, somehow…." I shake my head. "Somehow, I got pregnant."

Haymitch's eyes widen, but then return to their normal size, signaling that he's at least thought it was possible. He laughs. "Somehow, eh?"

"It's not funny," I say, and look down. "Listen. I heard about someone… a merchants wife who… takes care of these kind of things," I figure if there's anyone I can count on not to judge me by my morals, it's Haymitch.

This is when I see the shock I was expecting to see when I told him I was pregnant. "Are you out of your _mind_?" He stands up and slams his fist into the table, and I jump. "That baby could save your _life_!"

"What?" I want to talk, but I stammer and stop, not knowing what to say. "I—"

"All this worrying about Snow, about what will happen if you can't convince him. And the rest of Panem. Worrying about your family, me, Peeta, blah blah blah… The solution growing inside of you and because you're a coward, you're not going to work with what you have," He says indignantly and practically chugs his liquor.

"Not wanting to bring a child into _this_ does not make me a coward," My voice is raised, now. "Haymitch, do you think being pregnant will really help me? I've thought about it, and it just doesn't seem like it will be enough,"

"Is this about that seam boy?" He says, too drunk to follow the conversation. "Don't wanna have Peeta's kid so you can keep him around?" He shakes his head. "I didn't know you were that stupid. Stubborn, yes, but stupid too?"

"Shut up Haymitch. No, it has nothing to do with him," I demand. "Listen to me. About the Capitol. If I had the baby, would it be enough? Could it save my family… would it keep us all safe? How do we make it believable, that I wanted the baby? What do you really think?"

He's so drunk now that his eyes flutter open and shut. He laughs idiotically. "Huh. What do I think about that? I thought I just told you being knocked up could save your life, but you want to keep asking me what I think!"

Exasperated, I stand up and push my chair to the side. Too hard, because it hits the stove and then bangs against the wall, loudly. But I'm too angry to care. Haymitch has made me rethink everything, but is now too far gone to give me any real advice. To explain, if I should keep the baby, what our plan of action would be. To tell me if he's heard anything from the Capitol while I've been avoiding him. If he knows anything I don't.

I'm mad, and I'm going to show it. I yell, "This is why I never should have told you at all. You're useless to me like this. This is my life, my future, my family's future! I can't believe they've kept you as a mentor so long. What a joke!" I'm shaking with anger, but I still feel guilty about what I've said about him being a mentor. He probably won't remember tomorrow anyway.

I stare at him, waiting for a response, but he's not looking at me any more. He's looking behind me, toward the door, smiling drunkly… at someone.

I turn around. Peeta.

"What's going on over here? I heard a bang." He asks.

"How long have you been here?" I ask tentatively.

"Just a second. Guess you didn't hear me over your screaming," His voice is half playful, half mocking. Lately whenever he talks to me his voice is so full of confliction.

"Hey, speak of the devil!" Haymitch comes to. "Come on in. Katniss has something to tell you. Hope you're ready, cause its pretty heavy stuff," Haymitch says, lying on the couch now, using one hand to talk emphatically and the other holding the liquor. "Pretty heavy indeed."

Peeta's eyes immediately dart over to me. He looks worried and curious, but he doesn't say anything, just stares.

I want to run out of there. I want to run home, curl up in my bed, and tell Prim to tell everyone I'll be on strict bed rest for the week… longer, maybe. I'll tell my mother what's going on, if only I can hide from the rest of the world. I don't want to visit the merchant's wife, and I don't want to have the baby. I just want it all to disappear.

Because when I look into his inquisitive blue eyes, I have no idea where to start. I didn't want to do this now—I needed more time. But I can't abandon him again, and I definitely can't let him hear it from Haymitch. The room is quiet for a while until Peeta speaks again.

"Katniss?" His voice is the softest I've heard it since the day in the bakery. "What's he talking about?"

Even Haymitch is quiet now. "It's true, Peeta. I do have something I have to… talk to you about."

"Well, okay. What is it?"

Haymitch is still quiet, which makes me wonder if he's even alive. I can't tell Peeta this here. "Can we go to your house?"

Peeta looks increasingly confused. "Yeah. Sure."

We walk out together, and when I look back at Haymitch, I see he's passed out. That's for the best.

"We really need to find something for him to do," Peeta laughs as we walk to his house.

"There's the geese," I say, trying to sound casual.

"If only they needed more help." He smiles, but his voice is uncertain. I'm glad Peeta understands that whatever is happening is serious.

When we walk in, I marvel at what I see. I haven't been to Peeta's new house, since we haven't been talking. Inside, there are paintings on almost every wall. Nothing from the Games. Sunsets. The ocean, even though neither of us have ever seen it. On one wall there's an elaborate city littered with skyscrapers and dwarfed by mountains in the background. It's different enough from the Capitol to look beautiful.

"I know," he says, seeing me look around. "A little narcissistic to have my own paintings hanging everywhere. I want to give them away eventually. Just don't know to who," he explains.

"No," I say. "Not narcissistic. They are beautiful. And I don't have to hate them like the ones you painted on the train," I smile at him, and he returns it knowingly.

"I couldn't look at them either after awhile. You were right about that." He pauses. "Want tea or something?"

"I'm fine," I say. I sit down and my shoulders slump forward. I stare at my hands in my lap; play with the callouses left over from the games. When he sits next to me, instead of speaking I sigh loudly. His brow forrows.

"What's wrong?"

"Peeta," I say, holding my head in my hands. "You won't believe what happened,"

"What happened?"

"I'm…." I'm so close to saying it, but I stop. I want to look at his face one more time before I tell him. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes urge me on.

"I got pregnant." I lack so much eloquence; I can't even say it right. I stare at my hands. I can't look. From my peripheral vision, I see him lean back, as if the couch is catching him from falling.

When I finally look up, I see shock and confusion all over his face. I realize he doesn't know exactly what I'm saying. I've tried not to let Peeta see me with Gale, because I knew it would hurt him. I think about Gale telling me he ran into Peeta and Haymitch on his way to the woods. I followed shortly after. I'm sure somehow, Peeta knows Gale and I have something more. So I clarify.

"On the train, Peeta," I say softly, my voice wavering.

"But… you and…," I've never seen Peeta like this. He's stumbling over every word, and he speaks in a choked, tense manner. I don't know what he's feeling. "You and Gale. You're together."

"I haven't slept with him," I say slowly.

"You haven't?" He asks me.

"No," I say. "Not even close." I'm not sure why I add that. I couldn't be pregnant by coming close. It must be that part of me that can't stand to see Peeta hurt.

He leans back and pulls his hands through his hair. A glimmer of happiness appears on his face and disappears just as quickly. He inhales, exhales and looks at me. His eyes widen, and shut. His breathing deepens. I'm waiting for him to say something, to tell me what he thinks, what he's feeling.

"Is there more than you're not telling me?"

I don't know how he knows this. I can figure out how Prim suspected I was pregnant, how Haymitch knew something was up with me that I wasn't telling him. But I can't figure out how Peeta knows there's more that I have to tell him. I was hoping he'd react to my pregnancy first. I know he'd love the child, no doubt, but I assumed he'd be confused. And hurt that he and I aren't together, that the child isn't a product of my real, certain love for him.

His eyes are bluer when he's feeling something intense. He knows I'm not going to say something he wants to hear.

"There's someone in town who takes care of these things. Peeta, I'm—I'm thinking about…"

"Who?" He asks, urgency in his voice. "Is it safe? Do you know for sure?" He's still looking out for me.

"I don't know. Well—you know Thom from the seam? When his sisters' boyfriend died in the mines, she helped her. Gale said she was fine after, no problems…"

"Gale," He says. "I bet he did." He looks at the ground, squeezing his fist with his other hand, anger seeping into his eyes.

"Peeta, it's not like that…"

"Really? You don't think it's like that, Katniss? You think Gale's so thrilled that I got you pregnant? Don't you think he'd like it if…" Peeta trails off, and I know he's too kind and good to say what he's thinking.

"I don't think so, Peeta. I don't think it's that. He just told me because he knows I never wanted this. Not with anyone," I look deep into Peeta's eyes when I say it. I don't want him to think I'd want this with Gale.

He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms tighter. He says nothing until I see one lone tear roll down his cheek, like the one I saw the night after we slept together. The only two times I've seen him cry, and both because of me.

"Peeta," I say. "Peeta. Haymitch said the baby could save us. Me. That maybe having it will convince the Capitol. That's what we were arguing about… he got drunk, and stopped answering me coherently. I need to talk to him again, but I'm rethinking everything now," My voice starts to catch in my throat, and I realize I'm crying now.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta. About everything."

He's staring intently at the floor. But when he looks up and sees me crying, he moves toward me and wraps me in his arms. Instinctively I tuck my head in the crook of his neck and pull my legs up onto his lap. He puts one arm under my legs and the other around my back. He cradles me like that while I cry softly. I don't realize he's still crying, too, until I feel another one of his tears, crawling down my cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note: I wasn't sure whether to post this today or wait a day to keep up the suspense! I had just planned to begin this chapter and ended up finishing it today, so here it is. Also, some small facts about the set-up of District 12 might be a little inaccurate; I apologize if they are. Anyway, thanks so much for the helpful reviews. I love reading them! Hope you enjoy this chapter. –Melissa **_

**Chapter 6**

We fall asleep together like this, curled up on the couch. The peace of being in Peeta's arms again had made me sleepy, despite the tension of the night. I fought sleep and waited for him to say something more, but he never did. I wake up first the next morning, ignoring the instant need to flee. _I just wish you had been there when I woke up_, I remember him saying. I'm so comfortable and warm anyway, even on the cramped couch. I cannot deny how good it feels to fall asleep with Peeta the way we used to.

When the light of the morning sun peeks through the shades more prominently, Peeta stirs. I wait for him to say something.

"So good to wake up to you again," He says softly and sadly. I can't help but smile up at him. My heart flutters in my chest. I realize how absolutely ridiculous it is for me to be feeling this way in the wake of everything that's happening. I need no other complications.

_Complications?_ I question the thought. In many ways, being with Peeta would be the least complicated decision I could make.

"We never even made to your room," I notice.

"Because I didn't know if you'd come," he says, and I realize he was worried if he disturbed us, I wouldn't stay.

I pull away from him a little and sit up next to him on the couch. "What now?" I whisper.

"Don't know," he says. "I guess that's up to you."

"You haven't really told me how you feel," I say. "I thought you'd say so much more last night. I thought you'd tell me not to do it," I add, quietly.

Peeta sighs, and offers me a very slight smile. "I know you well enough to know that nobody could tell you not to do anything, if you thought it was what was right. And I'd never try. I like that about you."

His genuineness moves something inside of me. "As for how I feel, it's funny. I've known less than a day that it existed, but I already feel like I love it- I mean, he or she- so much."

Again, his words have a palpable effect on me. "I knew you would," I tell him, and mean it.

Peeta takes a thoughtful pause and asks carefully, "Do you?"

I think about what I should say, what the right thing to say is. So far, being honest with Peeta has gone well. In this moment I feel like I trust him more than anyone else, so I tell him the truth.

"I don't know," I start. "I didn't at first."

"When I realized I could stop it from happening, I felt a little differently. But only because of you. Because anyone who comes from you—" I stopped.

We're sitting together on the couch, far enough away to look into the others eyes, to notice every change of expression. Close enough to feel what the other is feeling.

"Anyone who comes from me, what?"

"Is someone that deserves a chance. Someone that's a part of you, is someone special," my voice wavers and a lump rises in my throat, but I promise myself I won't cry again. There's silence for a moment, and then he speaks gently.

"You're a part of me."

The connection between us is so intense when I look up into his eyes that I have to look away. It feels like we're back in the arena again, fighting for our lives, fighting to protect one another. I know what he means. We are a part of each other, baby or no baby.

A quiet melancholia fills the room. When I look up at the clock, it hits me that Prim and my mother will be wondering where I am. _What will I say?_ I wonder. That I stayed at Gale's? But he shares a bedroom with his brother, and it seems like an unlikely story. How can I tell them I've been at Peeta's?

After a while of comfortable silence, I tell Peeta I have to go. "They'll be wondering where I am."

"Do they know?"

"Prim does. She's the one who figured it out. I was sick, and she gave the test." He nods.

When I stand up, the distance between us seems tangible, and I am immediately aware of it. Peeta walks me to the door, and we envelope one another with a hug.

"Katniss," he says as I'm walking away. "I know you and Gale are… well, whatever you are. But I want to be in your life. I want to be a part of this, whatever you decide. Don't shut me out this time."

"I won't," I whisper. "I promise."

With that, he turns and shuts the door gently, and I'm all alone again.

It's impossible to predict if my mother will be home. She opened a clinic in town a couple of weeks go; funded by most of my winnings so far. It makes her happy, and it's good for District 12. She charges only so people don't feel like they're taking advantage of her, and even then it's only what they can afford.

I think about the young woman who was brought over several years back, bleeding heavily from a botched self-abortion. She must have only been 16 or 17. Her older sister sat with her while she died, clutching her hand and sobbing. When I asked my mother what happened later, I couldn't get a straight answer. Normally, my mother gave me all the gruesome details of the illnesses and starvation that took the lives of District 12 citizens. Any other mother might be more hesitant to share these details with their child, but she was so distant and wounded anyway that she must have seen no point in sugar coating their deaths. When this woman died, though, even my mother acted oddly. "Accident," she used to describe her death. Only in school did I hear whispers in the hall about what really happened.

I feel badly for this woman, now that I understand. I wish I knew what she was trying to escape. The same thing I was, maybe. Really, I was considering this as an act of mercy for this child, Peeta's child. Nobody deserves to grow up in a world like this; even people with promise.

I hesitate outside my house. My thoughts quickly turned bleak when I left Peeta's, and I feel so far away from him. I think of Haymitch's words: _Heavy, Indeed._ And it was, but somehow also easy to talk about. It should have been hardest out of anyone to tell Peeta, especially since I'm considering not having the baby. It seemed just the opposite.

I take a deep breath and walk inside. No sign of Prim. At first I think the house is empty, but my mother appears outside of her bedroom. "Katniss," she says. "We were worried about you. Prim's in town, looking for you."

I find this odd, because if there's anyone who could have an inkling of where I've been, it's probably Prim. Maybe she's trying to cover for me.

"Gale's looking for you, too."

My heart drops when I hear this. "He knows I didn't come home? You told him?" I'm irritated at this. We had no plans to see one another this morning; someone must have let him know I didn't come home.

"He came over, asking for you. We thought you'd gone hunting until we saw your bow by the fireplace. I think I know where you were, but I didn't think it was my place to tell him," She explains.

"Oh, well, where do you think I was?" I say in an accusatory tone, although she's been nothing but pleasant to me.

"Katniss. I'm your mother. You think I have no idea what's going on?"

"What is it that you think is _going on_?" I say, increasingly irritated.

"Did you tell Peeta that you were pregnant last night, Katniss?"

My face reddens and my expression is hard. "She told you?" It's impossible for me to believe Prim would do that.

"Did who tell me?" She looks confused.

"Prim,"

"No. I didn't even know she knew," my mother explains.

"Then how—how do you know? Was it Gale?" I'm very confused, demanding an explanation. I want to know who betrayed me.

"Gale knows, too?" She asks, looking a little disappointed. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Nobody told me," She continued. "But I'm your mother. I just knew, Katniss. You being sick on and off, tired. Emotional and upset. I just knew."

I walk into the living room and sit down, my mother following. "How did you know it was Peeta's, not Gales?"

"Well, you disappearing last night and Gale coming to look for you today confirmed it," She started. "But I thought so. I see that you and Gale are getting closer, but I also see the two of you have a long way to go. I didn't think that you'd been intimate with him yet."

Hearing my mother use the term "intimate" makes me blush again, despite what my pregnancy strongly implies. I think back to that night, both treasured and despised in my mind. Having such a snowball effect on my life.

"How'd it go, telling Peeta?"

"Well," I say. "I mean, we're just friends. You know that, right? Well… we weren't friends. But things changed after I talked to him," I explain.

She looks at me like she doesn't believe me, but answers like she does. "Yes, I know."

I almost tell her I don't know if I'm keeping the baby. But I realize I can't. My mother would worry about my safety and make sure it didn't happen. Unlike Peeta and Gale, she knows the risks all too well. If I do it, I'll tell her when it's over. I've been empowered and almost back to my normal self since I found out I had a choice; I'm not letting her take that away from me.

"Listen, mom, I have to go. I don't want Prim and Gale out there worrying. I'm going to shower and go into town. I'll talk to you more about this later."

About 30 minutes later I'm dressed and headed toward town. I worry they went into the woods looking for me; I don't want Prim trudging around there. Predators don't appear often, but they require expert handling when they do. I pick up my pace a little bit.

First I check the Hob, since it's most likely they'd look for me there. It's bustling today, but no sign of them. I ask around a little, and someone said they'd seen them head toward the shops a little while earlier.

I head that way, past the various shops that are owned by the more well-off in District 12, although 'well off' is still a stretch. No sign of them. I ask the owner of a small grocery shop, and she says she saw them heading toward the bakery.

I freeze. Well, Peeta won't be there, right? After all, I left him less than an hour ago. If he's working in the bakery today, I'm sure he wouldn't even be there yet. Still, I walk wearily in that direction, afraid of the awkwardness I'm sure to encounter even if Peeta isn't there. His mom isn't fond of me, obviously. I don't really know his brothers. His father would be kind to me, but it's still strange seeing him since what happened with me and Peeta in the games. Even stranger now.

"Stop!" I hear her frantic voice as I approach the Mellark's shop, coming from the back. Prim.

A small crowd has formed near the back entrance to the bakery. And then I see them. Gale and Peeta, standing close together, positioned to fight.

"Where is she!" I hear Gale yell. Peeta's face is hard and angry, and he doesn't say anything, which seems to egg Gale on. "Answer me. Was Katniss with you? Do you have any idea where she is now?" He raises his fist, and I think to jump in.

"Gale! Stop. I'm right here!" I cry out, bounding toward them. "I'm fine."

"Katniss, I'm so glad you're here," Prim's small voice says softly. I can tell that she wasn't that worried, and was just trying to protect me. I realize that she doesn't know that Gale knows I'm pregnant, and vice versa.

"Katniss," Gale says, relieved. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me quickly. I can't help but look quickly at Peeta, whose face falls at the kiss. I pull away. He shouldn't have to see this.

"What's going on?" I ask Gale with anger in my voice, and glance at Peeta, looking for an answer.

"Nothing," Gale says bitterly. "But he wouldn't answer me when I asked where you were. Didn't say he knew, didn't say he didn't know. It just got me… mad. I'm sorry."

I want to ask Peeta why he didn't just tell him he didn't know, but I'm worried Gale will be able to tell I was with him last night if I do. Worried I'll imply that he knows about the pregnancy, knows about everything. So I don't say anything.

"I have to go to work now. I'm late," Gale says. "Hopefully I can catch an elevator down with the next shift. We can talk about this later." I don't say much, and he can see I'm still annoyed. I wonder if later, he'll want to know where I was last night.

So he looks at Peeta. "Sorry," he offers flatly.

"Sorry." Peeta responds.

"Alright. See you later, Gale." Before I can stop him, he kisses me goodbye. This is normal for us now, but I feel incredibly self-conscious kissing him in front of Peeta. I turn away from Gale quickly so it doesn't happen again.

And then I remember the crowd. They've dissipated now, but Gale kissed me right in front of them. _We don't normally do that_, I think. We agreed, with me needing to be in love with Peeta and all, that we wouldn't show affection with anyone around. _He did it because Peeta was there,_ I think. To remind Peeta I'm his. Anger bubbles up inside of me. He should know better.

I guess I falsely still think I'm keeping secrets from District 12. They probably know, anyway. But still, it feels like betrayal on Gale's part. Letting his jealousy of Peeta in the way of our safety.

I walk over to Prim and put my arm around her. "Go home, little duck. I'll be right there." Prim, ever understanding, knows I want to talk to Peeta. "Okay. See you soon." She waves to me and Peeta and walks towards Victor's Village.

I pull up and drop my hands, not knowing what to say. I can't tell if he's angry with me, angry with Gale, or angry that he kissed me like that. After all, Peeta's safety is in jeopardy too if we can't convince the Capitol of our love.

"Why didn't you just tell him you didn't know where I was?" I ask, but I find the words come out gentler than I intend them. I think of our night bound tightly together on the couch, which seems so far away now.

"Couldn't," Peeta says shortly. "I wanted to tell him you were with me last night. And I couldn't do that. But I couldn't lie, either. I'm sorry." A sadness encompasses his face; his whole being.

I sigh. Sometimes, Peeta will do exactly what I need him to do, forgetting himself. I can't blame him for the times that he just can't give me that. I can't expect him to be completely selfless. To be honest, I admire him a little when he's not. He's going against his nature just like I go against mine when I let myself be close to him; let myself be close to anybody. Still, it's harder with him, because the closeness we find with each other is different than the closeness I find with anyone else. Stronger.

"It's alright," I tell him. "It's not your fault." I walk closer and take his hand, squeezing it gently but firmly in mine. To do what he did for me last night: to let him know that he is not alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When there's a knock on the door later that night, I know its Gale. I beat my mother and Prim to the door.

"Hi," he says wearily.

"Hey," I say, friendly, but with an edge.

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?"

The air is crisp, and I wish I brought a jacket. I don't tell him I'm cold because I know I know he'll offer me his, and I'm still irritated enough with him that I don't want it.

"You stayed at Peeta's," He says simply. "Right?"

"Yes," I say. I almost follow with _nothing happened_, but decide to wait until he asks.

"You told him, then," Gale says, not as a question. "I guess that means you're keeping the baby."

He tries hard to mask the disappointment in his voice, but fails. "Yes, I told him. I was forced to. Haymitch knew something was going on and demanded to know, so I told him the truth. Peeta came over. Haymitch was drunk and told him I had something to tell him. That's what happened. And no, I didn't make a decision yet."

"Did you sleep with him?"

I stand in front of Gale, stopping him from moving away. "No, Gale. I don't just run around sleeping with people. Whatever you and I are doing, I have some respect for it. I wouldn't disregard that. You shouldn't have to ask," I say. My words should be soothing, but they come out harsh.

"And yet, you spent the night with him,"

"I just slept, Gale," I say, increasingly indignant. "That's it. How you can blame me for wanting to stay with him, after what I was there to say? I couldn't just leave," I hear the lie coming out of my mouth. I could've left and I would have if I wanted to. The fact is, I choose to stay.

Gale shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I did this to myself. Katniss, I saw you and Peeta in the arena."

I wait for him to say more, to explain. I know he saw us, of course. Everyone did.

"I could tell it was all real, on his part. I remember people talking around town and especially in school; apparently Peeta's thing for you wasn't much of a secret. I knew anyway, that he meant it. Can't blame him."

"At first, I knew you weren't into the tactic, and I also could tell you didn't realize he meant it when he declared his love for you on stage. I hoped maybe you wouldn't figure it out either, to be honest. I must've missed something. Something that happened when the cameras weren't on, or before you even got into the arena. Because at some point, you started caring about him. I knew it, and it was still there when you got back," he admits.

"But Gale, you know everything now. That we slept together on the train when I was upset and that I told him it was a mistake. That I came back and gave us a chance," I start. "And I got pregnant. I told you first, do you know that, Gale? You know all there is to know."

"I don't know everything. I don't know when you fell in love with him." His voice isn't accusatory. It's sad.

"I am not in love with Peeta," I say quickly, my voice raising. "After all, didn't I come back here and choose to be with you? Doesn't that mean anything?"

"It means something," Gale agrees. "I'm just not sure what."

We're quiet for a while. I'm not sure I have the answers he's looking for. "I need a few days," I tell him. "From everyone."

"Alright," he says, his head slumped down toward the ground. "Will you tell me when you're ready to see me again?"

"Yes," I say. "I will. I'll tell you as soon as I'm ready."

"Katniss," Gale starts and hands me a folded slip of paper. "If you decide, here's the number. Her name is Marielle." I take it firmly in my palm. His lips brush mine, just barely, and he gives me a long glance before walking away.

The next few days are quiet and uneventful. I revel in the time to myself, the escape from the new life as I've come to know it in District 12. Gale respects my request and doesn't try to see me. Neither does Peeta, although I secretly wonder why not. I keep Marielle's number in the small nightstand by my bed. I find myself studying it as I fall asleep one night, the number that reminds me I'm still in control of my life.

On my third day of isolation, I decided to go hunting. I sit still and quiet, hunting my prey, luring them in. I listen to the mockingjays exchange tunes in the trees, wondering where they got them from in the first place. I felt so far away from the Capitol; far away from the games. I remember drifting off one night in a tree far above the ground, wondering if I'd ever be able to enjoy the woods again if I won, wondering if they'd always remind me of the agony of the arena. It was one of few pleasant surprises awaiting me in District 12; the ability to enjoy my meadow, my woods. I didn't catch anything that day, and didn't need to. The peace is what I needed. After, I find myself at Haymitch's door.

I give it a hard knock. When there's no response I open the door tentatively. "Hello?"

"Hello?" When I hear his response, I know right away he's not nearly as drunk as the last time I saw him.

"Hello, Haymitch," I walk into his living room.

"Well hello there, stranger," He pauses. Then, as if remembering the last time he saw me he says, "Sorry about the other day, by the way."

"It's alright," I say. I was incredibly angry, but I find myself not holding it against him.

"That's why I'm here," I explain after a long pause. "To talk about what you said. About having the baby. Do you rememeber?"

I sit down as he answers. "Oh, right. It's all vague, of course, sweetheart. But you wanna know why you should keep the baby? How it'll help keep you alive, right?"

I swallow hard. "Yes. What aren't you telling me?"

He sighs. "Listen, Katniss, I did hear from the Capitol. Week and a half ago, about. They want more of you. More of you and Peeta."

I roll my eyes and sigh. But it's not because of me and Peeta; it's because of who they think we are. In reality, I think we're something much different. And yes, I admit to myself, _it's something better than the star-crossed lover spectacle they forced it to be._

"So what does that mean?"

"They basically wanted to do some type of TV show. But not a live thing like the games or the tour. A production," He says. "Quite frankly, it seems like they know it's a sham just as much as we do. But that's not their concern. They want to record and produce something but show it to the Capitol citizens as uncut, real footage, because most of the Capitol believes it, apparently. They want the Katniss-and-Peeta show, documenting your return to District 12, your eventual marriage, undying love for one another, all that crap."

I cradle my face in my hands, disgusted by these people, and the joke they've made my life. I also feel personally offended for the rest of District 12, like we're some poor, unfortunate joke to them. I hadn't thought of my forced marriage in awhile. It seemed like a minor consideration now that I was carrying an unwanted child.

"So what are you saying?"

"The Capitol isn't sold. And they want to know you can sell it to its cirizens before they film it. I expect them here in a few weeks, and sweetheart, it would be great if you're showing by then. And keeping the baby doesn't mean you're off scot-free, by the way. It just buys you some time," he says. "By the way, they might want a DNA test."

"It's Peeta's, Haymitch," I roll my eyes. "Don't push me."

"Did I say otherwise? Nope. But they might think so, and I can't blame 'em either. Expect it. If you decide to have the kid, that is. You decide?"

"No. I haven't. I'm here because I wanted all the information," I tell him. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet." I think of Marielle's phone number by my bed.

"You're somethin' else. Well, that's it. That's what I know. Expect a little visit from some Capitol officials in a few weeks. If you don't have it, you better knock 'em dead with your love. Oh, and move in Peeta, or make it look like you did at least. There are my recommendations," Haymitch says. "Let's get him over here. He should be in on this."

"No," I say quickly. "Soon. Not tonight, I need more time to think."

"I still think you could do a lot worse."

I glance sideways to see a smile on his face, which irritates me. "I'm leaving now."

"Alright, Katniss. You coming by soon to clean this place, by the way?" He smiles.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Haymitch. I'll see you soon."

When I shut the door leaving him alone with his liquor, I mean to go to my house, but end up at Peeta's. I'm not sure why I'm there, but I knock softly on the door. Just to see if he's awake.

He opens the door, and I can see he's been sleeping. "Sorry," I start. "I didn't mean to wake you. I'm—"

"No, it's ok. Come in," he opens the door wide and I step in. We sit down on the couch, neither one of us saying anything. Peeta rubs his eyes and swipes a blonde wave from his forehead. I see he's still in his clothes, flour scattered on the blue shirt that matches his eyes. I notice how broad and strong his shoulders and arms are, and find myself yearning to be wrapped up in them.

"You know what we never did?" I say suddenly, breaking the silence that's full of tension and uncertainty.

"What's that?" He asks.

"We never sent anything to Rue and Thresh's families," I say. "Like we promised we would."

I see the recognition on his face. It was right before we were together on the train, and I wonder if he's thinking about that night now that I mention it. We agreed we'd send them something. "That's right."

"Is it safe to send them some money?" I wonder. "I don't even have that much, not yet. Most has gone to my mothers shop. I'll send everything I have left over, unless it's too dangerous," I say. I wonder if the Capitol would intercept our gift and punish us for sending it.

"It might be. But I'm willing to do it anyway, if you are. I have plenty I can give them," He offers. "What if we send them something else, and hide the money in the packages?"

I nod my head, agreeing with the idea. I look around at the beautiful paintings that adorn the walls and remember what he told me about wanting to give them away. "What about one of your paintings?" I ask. I point to one of a sunrise in the woods that I like especially. "What about this one for Rue's family?"

"I think I have one they might like better," He says, and walks into the back of the house without an explanation. When he comes back a few moments later, a large canvas is in his hand. He turns it toward me.

It's Rue, covered in flowers. But instead of surrounding her lifeless body, hundreds of them fall around her as she dances on a beach. Her hands are stretched out as if to catch them; her face is beaming with delight. The white flowers fall from the sky around her illuminating her brown skin. Sunbeams shine between the flowers. She looks so innocent, and so happy.

Tears well up in my eyes right away, clouding my vision of the beautiful site. "Peeta," I choke. "It's perfect. So perfect."

"I thought you'd like it," He said.

"I love it," I say. "Thank you."

We pick the sunrise in the woods for Thresh's family. I tell Peeta I'll bring over what's left of my winnings so far in the morning. It will be tight until the beginning of the month, but I'll have plenty after that. Besides, it's worth it. Peeta shows me the corner of the canvases where he'll stash it for them.

I look at the painting again. Rue is so life-like, she could step out of the canvas and into this house with Peeta and me. If she could, we'd take care of her. We'd give her a bed to envelope her in warmth, as much decadent food as she could eat, and protect her from the rest of the world. Protect the innocence which was stolen from her. We know better than anyone what that's like. I love her, and if she were still here, we'd love her together.

On my walk home, after I wave Peeta goodbye, I decide to keep the baby.


	8. Chapter 8

_Note: I changed just a little of the backstory to make this chapter work._

**Chapter 8**

The next week is the first in the big house in Victor's Village seems comforting to me. My mother and Prim, having never known it might not be born, talk about everything we need to prepare for a baby. A crib, clothes, expensive cloth diapers we'll have to order special from the Capitol. Strollers, highchairs, toys, will it be a boy or a girl? Should we paint the room blue, yellow or pink? They bicker over where it should sleep as well; closer to my mother's room or closer to Prim's. They ask my opinion on few things, and I don't mind. I almost enjoy watching them fuss over my child, both because it makes them happy and because it makes me feel less guilty about my lack of feelings toward it.

I remember seeing pregnant women when I was little and thinking it was odd the way they constantly rubbed their stomachs. I wonder if it's instinctual, because I find myself doing the same thing. My normally flat belly has protruded out, just a little bit. I try to ignore it when I pull on my shirts each morning. But it's another thing that delights my mother, and especially Prim. I don't tell them I may not even be in District 12 when I have it.

I have not really seen Gale in almost a week and a half. We've passed one another a couple of times when I was bringing food to Hazelle's, and our hellos were cordial but cool. I know I'll disappoint him when I tell him I'm keeping the baby, even if he says otherwise. I think he's figured it out—if not, surely he'd have called, have tried to meet me at our spot on Sunday. I miss him, as I did in the arena, on the Victory tour. But things have never been quite the same since I left, and too much has happened since I arrived in District 12 for things to go back to the way they were. Back then, there was a lighthearted innocence about our friendship. We shared secrets, discussed our most private fears and hunted to keep our families alive. But below all that, our friendship was light and easy. The romance has felt less so. But in light of everything that's happened, I'm not sure I could have expected any more.

I haven't told Peeta I'm keeping the baby, either. I want us to prepare ourselves together for what's to come. After Prim and my mother head to the clinic that morning, I pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Haymitch answers the phone in a confused slur, as if he wasn't aware he had a phone until just now.

"Hi," I say. "It's Katniss. Are you free in an hour or so?" I ask. Stupid question, as Haymitch is always free, but I want to make sure we have his undivided attention.

"I _guess _I can find some time for you," He remarks, and chuckles.

"And Peeta," I say. "See you then."

I take a deep breath and slip on my jacket. It's Saturday, so he should be home. I've purposely not prepared for what I'll say; with Peeta, it's better that I not.

I tap lightly on his door. When there's no answer, I tap a little harder. I hear his footsteps down the stairs.

He opens the door, smiling when he sees me, but his smile is soon replaced with a sadness that I think is related to the baby. He's only in jeans, and his hair is wet like he just stepped out of the shower. I can't help but be amazed at the strong, healthy person he's transformed into since the games. My stomach flips a little and my hands tingle; I cannot help but feel attracted to him.

"Hi," he says. "Come in. I'll go find a shirt, sit down."

He comes back down and runs his hands through his hair before he sits next to me, like he's bracing himself for something. I feel a wave of relief rush through me that I don't have to give him the news that would crush him.

"You haven't called or come to see me," I say, unsure why.

"I know. I just thought you'd need… time. I didn't want to bother you."

I nod. "Yeah. Did you send your paintings to District 11?"

"Yes. Didn't get sent back or anything. Maybe they actually got them."

"I hope so."

We sit there quietly, a heavy tension filling the space between us.

"Katniss…" He starts, afraid to ask. He clears his throat. "Now that you're here, I can't wait. I need to know."

"I know. That's why I'm here." I swallow hard. "I'm keeping the baby."

His eyes widen. "Really?" he asks me softly.

"Really. I decided the last time I was here," I admit.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He looks confused, but everything about Peeta's demeanor has changed. He's sitting up straighter and the sadness has vanished from his eyes and voice. He's gripping his hands, playing with them out of what seems like nervousness and excitement. He is happy.

"I don't know. I just wanted to be okay with it myself first."

"And are you?"

"As much as I ever will be, I guess."

Peeta looks down, but I notice his face fall before he can hide it. Then he opens his arms to me, and I crawl into them.

"Thank you," he whispers into my hair. "I know you don't want this. I'll do whatever I can to make it easier for you."

"There's something you can do right now," I say. "Come to Haymitch's with me. We need to talk about what's next."

I explain to him what Haymitch said about the Capitol wanting more of us, about how he thinks we need to notify them of my pregnancy as soon as possible. I tell him about the television show they want to make. I tell him I think they're going to make us go there to film it.

He sighs heavily. I ask him if there's anything, besides the obvious, wrong.

"I just never wanted any of it this way. You're the only person I could ever imagine having kids with, but I hate that it's making you so unhappy. Now I'll have to go to the Capitol and pretend to be with you, again, making us both miserable. It'd be better if you could just live here with Gale. I'd raise the baby, and I'd be okay without you, because she would make me happy. This could work out if the Capitol didn't insist on taking over our lives, once again."

There are a dozen things I want to say in response to this, but I pick one. "Her?" I ask.

"Oh. It's just I imagine the baby just like you, so I think of it as a girl."

I smile. "I think of it as a boy, for the same reason."

"Really?" He smiles. "Well, if they force us to the Capitol, I bet we'll find out. A special episode… the sex of the Star Crossed Lovers baby!" He says the last part with dramatic effect. We both laugh. In District 12, midwives tend to pregnant women, and we don't have the luxury of finding out gender of babies before they're born. Peeta tells me that he thinks his family was disappointed when he was born, another boy. I tell him that I thought my father would want a boy and remember asking him if he was disappointed when Prim was a girl. _No, I love my girls._ _Besides, who needs a boy when I have you to go hunting with? _He'd said with a smile.

We walk over to Haymitch's, the mood remarkably light. I knock and our mentor answers.

"If it isn't my favorite pair of tributes. Come on in."

We walk in and sit down at his table. Even though I haven't been around lately, the house looks noticeably better than usual.

"Did you clean up in here?" I whisper to Peeta when Haymitch is in the other room. He nods.

"So. First of all, you still knocked up?" Haymitch asks me.

I blush immediately and nod my head. I can tell Peeta's smiling at my embarrassment. I roll my eyes at Haymitch, so he'll know I disapprove of the term. "I'm still pregnant, yes. I'm having it."

"Phew. I see you've come to your senses."

"What happens next?" Peeta says.

"What happens next is I call the people in the Capitol. Tell them about the pregnancy, and how the two of you are entirely willing to go to the Capitol to film the journey to the birth of your child," He says, his voice smooth and romantic. Mocking. "The other thing. Like I told you, Katniss, they'll want you to get married."

Peeta and I share a glance before I look away. We'd talked about this, way back at the beginning of the Victory Tour. I forgot to mention it again today at his house.

"So you better tell me you're willing to go along with it before I tell them you will. Obviously, it's just a Capitol wedding. When it's all over you can run off with your… cousin and as for you, well," he says nodding to Peeta. "Hopefully you won't end up like me," he laughs.

"Haymitch," I scowl. I don't like even the mention of Peeta ending up like Haymitch. I wouldn't like the mention of Peeta married to someone else either, though.

I look at him, waiting for a confirmation of this plan before I say anything else. He just looks at me, his face saying, _whatever you want._ He's already mentioned today that he doesn't want this with me—not this way. But I also know Peeta's been protecting me too long to give up now.

"Ok. Fine. Yes, you can tell them we're already engaged maybe. Unless they want that to happen on TV too."

"Who knows. I'll call them tomorrow morning,"

"Try to call before you have too much to drink," I quip.

"Funny. They never minded dealing with me that way before."

"I'm hungry," I say, standing up and walking toward the door. Peeta follows my lead "I'm going home for lunch. We'll come by tomorrow afternoon."

Peeta walks me to my door, neither of us talking. When we get there, I notice him looking down at my stomach. My small t-shirt is a little tight already, and it rides up just slightly over my abdomen. I tug it down, self-conscious. He looks up, meeting my glance, his eyes full of curiosity and longing.

I sigh and tilt my head to the side. "You want to touch it?"

He laughs hesitantly. "Alright," and carefully brings his hand to the small bump. He touches it in fascination. "It's kind of amazing, isn't it? You can't deny that."

"I guess so," I offer. "I'm glad I'm showing anyway. The Capitol will like that."

Peeta's eyes harden again. "You think we'll be safe there?"

"I don't know. At least until we're done filming. I guess I will be, until I have the baby. But after…"

"But we made it out of the arena, Katniss. Escaped a dozen people hunting us. Starvation. The mutts. If we can survive that, we can survive the Capitol."

I nod my head, but my heart is full of doubt. Suddenly, he says, "See you tomorrow." I stand on the porch and watch him walk home, terrified of what's to come.

Soon, I'll have to tell my mother and Prim I'm leaving again. Gale. Hazelle. I won't be here to hunt for their family. I make a mental note to bring them everything I can before I go. Maybe I can fatten them up and hold them over for a while. Winter is coming soon, and game will be harder to come by when Gale makes it into the woods on Sundays. If they want me to stay until I have the baby, we could be in the Capitol for more than 6 months. I have no idea how I'll keep Peeta safe that long. As I watch him walk inside, I realize I have not only Peeta, but another person to keep safe this time, too. My head spins. In the arena, I didn't exactly know what to expect in terms of climate, weapons, and food sources. But I knew the gist of what I was up against. This time, I don't know if they'll be hunting me or coddling me. _Most likely both_, I think wearily.

The next morning, Haymitch calls me and tells me to come over. When I get there, he and Peeta are sitting at his dining room table. I'm surprised to see that there are two drinks rather than one sitting between them.

I sit down next to them. Haymitch glances at Peeta and back to me. "Start preparing. Your train comes in two weeks."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It's a crisp autumn morning in the woods when I tell Gale.

"I'm keeping the baby."

Gale downs a handful of berries. "I figured," he responds quietly.

"There's more."

He nods. "I kind of figured that too."

"The Capitol wants me to come there. Me and Peeta. Apparently the citizens want more of us. So they're filming a show… about our… love, I guess. They'll be putting on a Capitol wedding for us, and they were thrilled to find out I was pregnant. Now they have that to film too," I explain. "I leave in 2 weeks."

His head turns toward me quickly. "Two weeks?" He asks in surprise. "When did you find out?"

"Last Saturday. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

He looks away, gazing through the tall endless trees of the woods.

"So is this it for you and I?"

I'm taken aback. I'd think so many other questions would seem more important to him than that one. But maybe I'm not considering exactly how much I mean to him, or the fact that he's almost lost me several times before.

"I don't know," I stammer. "I haven't thought about it." This comes out differently than I mean it, hurtful.

He raises and drops his eyebrows and lets out a sarcastic chuckle. I feel anger building inside of me for his insensitivity, but squash it. I can't imagine what I've put Gale through since I left for the Games. I can let him be angry. I move closer to him and put my arm around his waist. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"So this marriage," He starts. "Will it be real? For you?"

"No," I answer, partially because I think it's true, partially because it sounds like the right thing to say. "Peeta and I are friends again… and I'm glad, because it's making the whole thing easier. He knows the marriage will be a Capitol creation. We're just friends," I say. If there's any doubt in my voice, I hope Gale doesn't notice.

"I thought I had you back," he says. "I knew you cared for Peeta, but you choose me, and really let me think this could happen for real."

"I knew the Capitol wasn't done with me, even before I found out about the pregnancy. I should've told you that before now. You know they weren't happy about the berries," I say.

"I know. It was just wishful thinking, maybe. Now I'm losing you all over again."

"Gale," I start. "It doesn't mean there's no chance that you and I… someday, can't… find something real together. It's on hold for now. But it's not over forever."

He looks up at me. "I want to believe you, Katniss. I just don't know if I can."

I hug him tightly. Any further reassurance seems like it would be excess. I don't think I can make him believe it with any more certainty than I believe it. Gale thinks he and I don't stand a chance because of Peeta; I'm more consumed with the fear that I won't ever be back in District 12 again.

If I don't make it back, I hope Peeta does. I hope he, Prim and my mother will raise the baby. Gale can be its "cousin", too. But then they'll all see my child's name pulled in the reaping, which in my anger I've decided is rigged for certain. At least I won't have to suffer knowing—but they will. I see that there's no real way for me to protect anyone anymore.

I tell Prim and my mother later that night. My mother cries; I realize I've never seen her show this kind of emotion toward me, not even before I left to a probable death in the Games. Prim is sad the baby won't be born here, but confused about why my mother and I are so upset that I'm leaving for a while.

"You already pretended to be with Peeta during the games. And, what's so bad about having to be married to the baby's father? If you're not happy, Gale will be waiting when you get back."

She says the last part with a little hesitancy. I know she loves Gale like a brother, but again, she's pulling for me and Peeta. I guess this must be related to the pregnancy; surely, sweet Prim would find it romantic for the three of us to be together as a family. Still, I'm surprised about her complacency at the idea of Gale and I marrying. I also realize she doesn't understand the kind of danger I might be in. I don't want to worry her, so I don't say anything more about it. I hug them both extra tight before I go to bed that evening.

The next couple weeks seem endless. I hunt for Hazelle, freezing as much extra game as I can, although I know it won't keep long. Gale and I have our last two Sunday's together, but he's distant and a little cold. Besides kisses hello and goodbye, he doesn't make any further attempt at physical affection. I feel like the progress we've made romantically is stagnant now, and as slowly as I wanted to take things, I feel slightly disappointed. After all, I might not make it back, might never know what could have been.

Luckily I don't have to worry about Prim and my mother. Haymitch confirmed with the Capitol that my winnings will go directly to them while I'm gone, so they'll have more than enough for what they need. Although Hazelle will let me hunt for her, she doesn't like taking money from us, so I remind my mother to make sure to bring her food weekly even if she resists. Prim and my mother take care of all of household work, so they'll hardly notice my absence. Prim insists we still set up the nursery for when I come back, and I oblige her and help paint a yellow room with pink and blue trim. I don't see much of Peeta. Again I wonder why he doesn't seek me out; but I figure we'll be seeing plenty of each other soon enough.

When I wake up the morning that our train arrives, I'm relieved the day is here. I'm ready to let the anticipatory anxiety slide away and face whatever is coming. Gale, Hazelle, Prim and my mother walk me to the train station. Gale nods to someone and I see Peeta there saying goodbye to his father and brother, and Haymitch; who seems to be babbling nonsense to Peeta's poor father.

Hazelle hugs me, and I remind her to keep the kids fed, and ask my mother if she needs anything. My own mother hugs me tightly, tears welling in her eyes. I hug Prim and tell her I love her and I'll see her soon. They step back to give us privacy, and Gale walks up and slides his arms around my shoulders.

"Take care, Catnip," he whispers. "You'll be fine. Write if you can."

"I hope so," I say. "I'll see you soon, Gale." My eyes are hopeful that after I give them what they want, I can return to my home in District 12.

"I love you," he says quietly, when I pull away. I hug him again tightly in response, unable to form 'I love you, too' on my lips. I kiss him deeply when I pull away, and walk toward the train, not looking back.

"Let me help you," I hear as I struggle down the corridor with my bags.

"I'm fine," I tell Peeta. "I've got it."

"In your fragile state," he starts. "I thought you'd appreciate a hand," his eyes glimmer. I realize he's teasing me.

"I'm glad you think it's so funny," I respond, but there's humor in my words. He has a lot of nerve teasing me about the pregnancy that's spun my world upside down, but his happy, playful voice makes me not mind.

We head to my old room, which sure enough has a "Katniss Everdeen" label on the door. Peeta brings my bags in, and a painful familiarity sweeps over me at the sight of my room. Peeta tells me Haymitch said dinner is at 6 and he'll see me then.

My day in my room is uneventful. I watch a bunch of mindless Capitol television and think about what growing up in their carefree world must be like. Never worrying about starvation, mine explosions or anyone's names being pulled in the reaping. I resent every last one of them, except Cinna, that is. I wonder if he'll be my stylist for the show and remind myself to ask Effie later.

When I go to the bathroom, I see a slew of what appears to be prenatal vitamins waiting for me on the sink. _I might as well take them_, I think, and swallow a couple of the huge pills. They feel lodged in my throat and I swallow hard again, forcing them down.

I slip on the least obnoxious dress I find in the wardrobe and meet Peeta and Haymitch in the dinner car we're so familiar with that evening. Before I can greet them, Effie appears as if out of nowhere. "Hello! Hello! So wonderful to see you both. Give me a hug, darling," She says to me, wrapping me tightly in her grasp and then moving on to Peeta.

"Oh, Katniss. You're showing!" She giggles with delight. "So, so very sweet. Our viewers will love it, too. May I touch it?" I sigh faintly and oblige as she strokes my little bump, slightly bigger than it was when Peeta touched it a few weeks ago.

"To think, a little Victor baby in there. This is just _perfect,_" she says, and motions for us to sit down at the table. "How far along are you again, dear?"

"Almost four months."

"Four months," she repeats and pauses, seemingly doing math in her head. "Why, Katniss, that was the Victory Tour… that would mean…" She trails off and smiles at us, a devilish look on her face.

"Yes, Effie," Peeta says, trying to stop her from stating the obvious—that the baby was conceived right here on this train. I'm tomato-red but flash him a quick 'thank you' glance for stopping her from saying anymore.

"That is _so_ romantic, you too!" An awkward tension fills the room. She looks at the space between us oddly, and glances between Peeta and me like she's trying to figure something out. When we don't give her any affirmation of her love, she moves on.

"Ok, ok, so it's another big, big day tomorrow! Since there will be no stopping, we should be in the Capitol by late morning. Copies of the schedule will be in your rooms when you return after dinner. But I will tell you now we are starting filming right away! Very exciting, this kind of thing is unprecedented, you know."

The lack of excitement in the room is palpable. Even Haymitch seems too subdued to mock or challenge her. "Alright, Effie," I say.

Dinner is served, a plethora of delectable food. We eat and talk; mostly Effie, Peeta and Haymitch. Since I'm lacking in excitement and authenticity, I think it best to be quiet. After 4 courses, I'm uncomfortably stuffed. I may have had plenty of money for food these past few months in District 12, but there was nothing available there that was worth eating this much of.

When she's gone, I look up at Haymitch. "What's up with Effie?"

"I guess some Capitol people do think you two are for real. You'd better start the show for her, I guess. Better get to bed. It's _so_ late. See you two in the morning," he slurs.

"It's 8:30," Peeta notices, but Haymitch ignores him and stumbles out of the dinner cabin.

"I'm tired too, actually," I tell him. "Not for the same reasons obviously. I couldn't sleep last night."

"Me neither."

"Nightmares?" I asked. Peeta nodded.

"Me too. I guess I'll go lay down. Nothing else to do but worry, anyway."

He gives me an empathic look. Peeta walks me to my room, but stops on his walk further down the corridor to his own, pausing to look at me. "If you have any nightmares, my door will be open." He continues down the hall before I can say anything else.

I didn't think much of it at the time, but as I lay restless and lonely in my plush bed, I realize I don't really know how to sleep on the train without Peeta. I haven't had any nightmares, but that's because I haven't been able to sleep. I've been tossing and turning and rubbing my stomach, thinking about the Capitol and the baby and my family. Despite my extreme exhaustion, I cannot get my mind to stop racing long enough to fall asleep.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip quietly out of my room and down the hall. I knock softly and hear Peeta tell me to come in. I can't see him in the dark and I don't know what to say, so instead, I slip in bed beside him. His arms find me right away.

"Nightmare?"

"No. Just can't sleep."

I find such comfort back in this room with him that I don't need to say anymore. But neither of us fall asleep for a while; I can tell by his breathing that he's awake. It's been so long since we slept like this. After I told him I was pregnant, we slipped into sleep together on his couch, both desperate for comfort. Tonight felt like how it used to be, when we were one another's only source of happiness. Our friendship, both in the arena and on the Victory tour may have been complicated, but it went further than just a need for comforting arms. It was a ray of light in extremely bleak circumstances.

At breakfast the next morning, Effie asks us if we're excited for the first 'event' on the schedule at the Capitol. I haven't looked at it, and apparently neither has Peeta, because we both stare blankly at her.

"Oh come on, let's see some excitement from you too!" Haymitch says over a mimosa. "Filming the gender-of-the-baby spot!"

I look at Peeta. It's hard to read the expression on his face, but I think he's feeling the same thing I am. We'll find out if it's a boy or girl today, and that makes it seem much more real somehow. In the next glance we exchange we're just a couple of teenagers, unexpectedly pregnant and terrified. If only it were our only problem.

When our train arrives into the Capitol a few hours later, our bags are whisked away and we are rushed to what seems to be a hospital. Out of nowhere, a film crew arrives behind us, following Peeta, me, Haymitch and Effie to a small room with what must be an ultrasound machine. A stylist I've never met pulls me into another room and quickly but proficiently applies my makeup. When he shows me it in the mirror, I look like I'm going out for dinner and dancing, not to an ultrasound. When I re-enter the room I can see Peeta's been made-up a bit too. He looks nervous as they direct me to lie down on the table.

Effie suddenly rushes into the room. "Slight change of plans. We're not pre-filming this one. This is airing live. An exciting way to begin the series, isn't it!"

_Live._ No second chances to re-film if we're not excited or convincing enough. While the camera crew rushes around to prepare, I look up at Peeta and grab his hand. I silently tell him through my eyes to make it a good performance; that I will too. I regret not looking at the schedule and being prepared for this. His spot is a high top chair right beside me and he looks intensely down at me. I hate that I can't talk to him, can't hear his reassuring voice. I know it's not safe to exchange any words of encouragement here, any words that might imply our love is anything but genuine.

Soon the lights are on and the ultrasound technician is rubbing a thick, slimy liquid on my stomach. Seeing my trepidation Peeta squeezes my hand. The camera lights are blinding, and I can barely see the screen where the baby is illuminated inside of me. The technician suddenly speaks, her voice high and loud.

"Everyone at home, are you ready? Katniss, Peeta?"

I guess she's asking us. I faintly nod my head, feeling sick from wand on my stomach, the lights, the people all around us. I can't see Peeta, I only feel his hand squeezing mine. There's a pause and I imagine Caesar and his cohort are discussing the happenings in between shots of us.

"You are having a… baby girl!" Her voice is so loud and excited. I feel blank for a minute, and then remember I'm supposed to react, so I break into a huge smile. My eyes are tearing up because of the lights, and I wipe them, pretending to be overcome with emotion. There's all sorts of noise and commotion coming from the set. Suddenly, the lights switch position and I can see Peeta's face. He is beaming. I can tell his smile is fake, a smile for the Capitol, but genuine happiness radiates through his eyes. He continues his performance by kissing my hair.

Finally the lights go off and Effie rushes over. "A girl!" She exclaims. "We'd better start thinking of names! It must be something perfect, of course, for the daughter of two Victors. They'll take you to your hotel room now to get settled. We'll do gender-reaction interviews later. Get some rest, lovebirds."

This time, we do not have separate rooms. Our suite is the penthouse of a ridiculously lavish Capitol hotel. As soon as Effie with all of her chatter and Haymitch with his slurred commentary leave, I shut the drapes. The view of the Capitol reminds me too much of the view from the roof Peeta and I sat on the night before the Games. He and I sit down together, both exhausted from the eventful morning. We haven't gotten a chance to talk at all.

"You were right about the gender-reveal bit," I say to break the silence.

"Guess so," Peeta says. "So. A girl."

The room is filled with some sort of tension now. Every reference to the baby is a reminder of the night together on the train. And now that we know the gender, it's a reminder of the very real fact that we are having a child, me and Peeta, together.

"Just like you thought."

"Just what we need. A mini Katniss around to break some more District 12 hearts."

I shoot him a dirty look, but smile. "You're awfully funny lately."

"Speaking of breaking hearts. How's Gale doing with all of this? You're still together, right?" His voice is not accusatory, it's waiting for the confirmation of what he knows but doesn't want to hear. I get a sense that he wants to get it over with. Maybe being alone together in this beautiful suite is difficult, and he wants a reminder that nothing will happen.

"He's not doing so well," I answer him honestly. "At least not from what I know. As for being together, I don't know. I don't know what he and I are. I didn't before the games, I still don't."

Neither of us says anything for a long time. I decide to say something to break the tension. "You seemed happy, in the hospital room."

"I was—am. I wanted it to be a girl. Think they'll force us to name her something ridiculous?"

I cringe. "I hope not. The last thing I want is a Capitol-produced name to go with a Capitol-produced baby."

Peeta's face twists. "The Capitol hardly produced this baby, Katniss."

"Didn't it? Forcing us into the Games, tricking us into thinking we could both win, the berries, shooting that old man after our speech. Driving us to… to be desperate for one another like that," I'm not sure why, but I'm suddenly angry. I don't know about him, but this morning had been a nightmare for me. I yearned to be safe at home with my mother and Prim.

"Speak for yourself," Peeta says. "And by the way, you came to me that night," His voice is calloused and hurt.

"You could've stopped me," I say, knowing that's not really true. I was determined.

His eyes widen with hurt and disbelief. "Is it so hard to believe I thought you wanted to be there?" His voice is rough with anger.

"But you asked. You asked me why I was kissing you. You knew I didn't really want it," Another lie.

"Yeah. And you told me to trust you."

He doesn't need to say any more after that. We go about getting settled in the suite silently. I hang the dresses they gave me on the train up, and put the little that I brought with me away in my oak drawers. I hang my fathers' jacket up last, hugging the leather against my body first. I avoid eye contact with Peeta the whole time, ignoring him as he puts his things away.

I slip in bed and pull the plush comforter over me. It's comfortable and wonderful, and I sink into the bed. But I still resent it and where I am. I feel guilty watching Peeta on the couch. While obviously expensive, it can't be nearly as comfortable as this bed.

"Peeta," I say. "You can sleep here with me. This bed is huge, anyway." He doesn't respond. "Come on, Peeta." Wordlessly, he gets off the couch and into bed next to me and faces the wall. I've hurt Peeta many times, but he's never held it against me for this long. I need an ally here in the Capitol; and we won't put on a good show if he's angry with me, if we aren't friends.

"You're right about the night on the train. I did come to you and I kissed you first. I wanted to be with you."

He finally turns around and looks at me. "But now you regret it."

I feel that intense attraction to him again, like I did at his house a few weeks ago. All sorts of things flash in my mind; Gale, the baby, the night with Peeta on the train and the way it made me feel. "No I don't."

With that, he takes me in his arms, and I am safe again.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Authors note: I know it's taking me a little longer than usual to update; I'm trying to continue this thoughtfully while staying true to the tone of the books. Please keep reviewing, it's incredibly motivating! Hope you enjoy!**_

Chapter 10

_Mother,_

_I didn't expect my first letter home to be quite so bleak, but I don't want to sugarcoat what I think is going on. I'm not sure how long it will take you to get this—if they don't stop it from getting there, that is—but we've been here for two weeks as I'm writing this. The filming has been a nightmarish experience, and I feel like I've failed in proving my love for Peeta in front of the crew for no other reason than every word and move between us is scripted. Haymitch told me on our third day here that the crew was reporting everything to Snow and that he was not happy. If only every interaction between us was not directed, our love would be much more believable… but I feel like we've been set up to fail. _

_ What's worse is that Snow has ordered Haymitch home to District 12, as you'll probably already know by the time you get this letter. He's been keeping us in the loop regarding our 'performance' and what to expect next, which is I'm sure why they're having him leave. Luckily, Cinna is here as my stylist again, but I'm worried he'll be replaced soon too._

_ I want to come home so badly, mother. If Peeta weren't here with me I'm sure I'd go crazy. I think we're safe at the moment, but now I know for sure it's not looking good once they're done with us—I'm worried that could even be before I have the baby. I'm not sure she's so safe anymore either. Don't tell Prim any of this; I don't want her to worry. Tell her I miss her and to start thinking about baby girl names._

I swallow back the lump in my throat as I sign my name on the letter. I look up at Peeta, sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the vast city. "We have to get out of here."

His response is quiet but firm. "I know."

Haymitch should be here any moment. He's coming to say goodbye to us before his midnight train back to District 12. I never thought I'd feel so distraught about Haymitch's absence, but without him, I feel like we'll really be alone, at the mercy of the Capitol people. Surely Snow knew Haymitch would tell us he was displeased, didn't he? Was that the plan all along, bring Haymitch here, feed us information to scare us and then send him home? I don't know what's going on, only that they didn't bring us here with the intention of sending us both back in one piece.

"Hey," Peeta says, calling my gaze back to him, "Are you feeling okay?" His voice is sincere and concerned, with an edge of anger, directed at them.

Two days ago, we were filming a shoot of Peeta and I taking a walk hand-in-hand around Tollse Square Gardens, the Capitol's massive garden and public square. The people of the Capitol are voting on every aspect of our wedding—the dress, the venue, the wedding bands and the cake, and whatever other sorts of things are involved in wedding planning. Our weddings are quite different in District 12 and I knew nothing about Capitol weddings before I came here and still don't. Mila, the director and narrator of our show, explained on air that the options given were mine and Peeta's favorites, and that we wanted the Capitol citizens' help in making our final selections. In reality, no one ever asked either of us anything. I didn't care except that they broadcasted it as if we pained over each and every selection. I thought of Gale, and wondered if he'd really believe I cared about what sort of wedding cake I had.

Anyway, three cakes lit up screens around the square. After our meet-and-greet, the observers used remotes that had been passed out to select their favorite cake for our wedding. It was a big to-do and toward the end I worried an eye roll of mine had been caught on camera. Maybe it had, because there was no other explanation for what happened next.

Peeta and I waved and smiled as we headed down the long staircase. I'd grown accustomed to cameras everywhere, capturing my every angle, and today was no different. Except that as I carefully went to place my heel on the next stair, a thin metal pole suddenly appeared under my left foot, big enough for me to trip over but small enough not to be noticed by the crowd or cameras.

I tried to catch my balance, but my tall ivory heels made it impossible. I tumbled down with Peeta bounding after me, finally able to stop my fall a few stairs later. The crowd gasped with fright. I looked up to the huge screen above me to see that the cameras had captured Peeta's face, overwhelmed with concern, tears welling in his eyes. There were more gasps at his obvious love for our baby and me. I barely had a chance to stand up and assure him I was all right until we were whisked down the staircase and into our waiting car.

I felt shaken up and had a headache, but felt fine otherwise. All I wanted to do was go back to our suite and sleep the rest of the awful day away, but Peeta insisted we go to the hospital for an ultrasound. Mila was remarkably casual about my fall, making me suspicious, but she obliged Peeta's demands and we sped to the hospital. The ultrasound showed the baby was fine and developing normally, but as much as the technician tried to assure him, it did little to ease Peeta's concern.

"Depends. Do you mean physically or mentally?" I said, and he scowled at me. "I'm sorry. Yes, I feel fine. Actually, I felt her move last night," I say, feeling like I owe him more reassurance. It's true, but since I still have difficulty discussing the baby with him, I hadn't planned to mention it.

His face brightens. "Really? The first time?" I nod.

"What'd it feel like?"

"Like… a fluttering. Really light, almost like tiny legs."

He smiled a little, his mood lifted. Between being tripped on the stairs and learning Haymitch would be sent away, it had been a rough couple of days. But we hadn't talked too much about it. Our time in the room since then had been quiet, with Peeta mostly reading and me writing. We'd gone to sleep early, wrapped in each other's arms especially tight. Peeta had a nightmare last night. It was different than usual; he woke up groaning with fear. I coaxed him back to sleep, but never asked what he was dreaming about.

"When do you think it'll air? The episode in the square?" He asked.

"I guess next week," I offer.

"We have to be here to watch it. Maybe we can see something. We have to find out when it airs," Peeta says with determination in his voice.

"We can try," I shake my head. "But I'm sure we won't be able to tell. If any of the cameras even caught it, I'm sure it will be edited out," I remember exactly how it looked, the long, thin silver pole that almost camouflaged into the steps.

"Unless they want us to see."

I pause. "Us and the rest of the Capitol citizens? I doubt it. They all love us."

He shakes his head. "They don't know that the Capitol is out to get us; only we really know that. What if…" he says, his voice trailing off.

"What if what?"

"What if they're setting up our eventual demise? Meaning, they want the citizens to think someone is after us—you, me, and the baby—so that when they eventually off us, they'll see it coming? Of course, they won't suspect their precious government could have been involved. The Districts might, but that will still only work towards the Capitol's advantage."

I lower my head, shaken. Peeta's not often the pessimistic one with a disastrous view of the future, that's usually me. But he could be right about this. The government may despise us; me, especially. But their citizens truly love us. If I had any doubt about that before, it was expelled the other day in the Square. They adore us. What if it's the Capitol's goal to convince everyone that there's a mysterious person, or group, out to bring us down? The cameras had followed us to the hospital and I think they'd surely air the visit—to let everyone know the producers of the show are _obviously _trying to keep us safe against some sort of enemy.

"You might be right," I say, my voice quiet but laced with alarm.

"If I am, more will keep happening. But it will be intermittent and random, impossible for us to predict," he pauses. "Impossible for me to keep you safe."

His voice lowers, and he looks away, avoiding my gaze. His eyes are intensely blue again, terribly sad but also searching for an answer. It hurts me to watch him, and I want to jump up and wrap my arms around his neck—but that doesn't seem like enough. I want to feel his lips on mine, to comfort him with my kiss and touch. He's not looking at me, he can't see my red cheeks and loaded stare. I think of Gale, waiting for me at home. I stop myself from running to Peeta. But in this moment I realize something has happened here in the Capitol, something besides the reality TV show. Something similar to what started to happen the last few days in the arena, and on the train. Feelings for Peeta bubble up from deep inside of me, but unlike in District 12, I can't run away from them. Away from him.

The sharp turn of the door handle breaks me out of my haze. It must be Haymitch, he's the only one who knocks without coming in. Peeta seems to come out of wherever he was in his mind, too. I realize I've been holding my breath and expel a long gulp of air from deep within me.

His presence doesn't help the mood. His face is solemn and, while I'm sure he's been drinking, this is one time where you wouldn't be able to tell. "Well," he starts. "Doesn't everybody look cheerful in here."

This makes me smile and I find myself up off the couch, wrapping my arms around Haymitch. His smell of liquor and shaving cream is comforting somehow, and I really don't want to be here without him watching over us, despite all of his antagonizing and drinking. I can tell he's surprised but after a second he returns my hug warmly.

"Don't go," I say.

"Sorry, kiddo," Haymitch says, and his voice is the sweetest I've ever heard it. "You look out for her," he nods to Peeta, and it almost seems like a joke between them. As if he'd ever do anything less. "Are you still feeling ok from the fall, by the way? What about the baby?"

"Yes," I nod. "But it wasn't a fall. You know I was tripped," We'd talked extensively about it that evening in Haymitch's much more modest hotel room downstairs. He agreed that it seemed very plausibly something they'd send someone to do.

"Slip of tongue, Katniss," he said a little sternly. "So?"

"My arm is sore, but otherwise I'm all right. And the baby is moving. She seems more than fine."

Haymitch walks over and shuts the door, which still swings ajar. He sits down between us. "Look," he says. "I can't exactly tell you… what to expect." By the tentative way he's saying this, I can tell he thinks the room might be bugged. If it is, we're in trouble, because Peeta and I have been talking without caution since we've been here. I try to do a quick analysis in my head of anything incriminating we might have said.

"But, I don't think it's good," he finishes and sighs. "I shouldn't stay too long. But you'll be hearing from me," he says. He looks at both of us with wide, ominous eyes, but they also say that he has or will figure out a plan. Or at least I think so.

He picks up his bag again and walks over to Peeta, hugging him quickly. "I'll talk to you soon," He shuts the door hard behind him. I feel paralyzed with a need to escape. The gorgeous, huge suite in the beautiful city suddenly seems intensely stifling and oppressive. The drapes are open just a little, and Peeta stares out into the vast distance. He turns toward me. I find myself looking at him differently now. He doesn't notice.

He opens his mouth to say something and pauses, motioning toward the balcony. I've never been out there in the two weeks we've been in the Capitol, partially because it reminds me too much of the night before the games, and I try not to think about the games beyond the nightmares I have that I can't help. Not that our situation is much better now.

"Do you think out here might be bugged too?"

"Maybe," I say. "But we've already said enough inside, even if it is."

He sighs. "I know. Katniss, we have to get out of here. You're not safe. I thought for sure we'd have until the baby is born to start worrying, but I'm not so sure now. You could've lost it, the other day." I rub my hand on my growing stomach, feeling instinctively protective of my baby. Ironic how before I got here, I wanted to end the pregnancy, and now I may have to fight to keep it going. I'm still not sure what I feel about it, still not happy about bringing a life into this kind of world, but I know that I have to protect her.

I furrow my brow. "It's not just about me… us," I say, referring to the baby. "You're not safe either. Don't forget to think about keeping yourself safe, Peeta! I won't forget to think about it," I say, quickly and with an almost frantic tone to my voice. It alarms me to hear him talk like that, with only the interest of our unborn baby and me in mind. I can't handle thinking of any situation where we live and he doesn't.

"Alright, Katniss," he says gently. "I'll try not to."

The air is momentarily tense, and I know there was desperation in my voice a moment ago. I break the silence and say calmly, "When will Haymitch get home? Tomorrow night?"

"Most likely. And then he'll have to think of some way to get us out of here, that's if that's what he's planning on doing. It could be awhile," He says sadly.

"I can't be out here, I don't want to look at this city anymore. It doesn't matter now; if the room is bugged, they've heard plenty anyway. Come on," I nod toward the balcony door.

Peeta shakes his head. "I'll be in soon. I need to think," He takes a rubber ball he's been shifting from hand-to-hand and throws it over the railing. It bounces right back at us, and he ducks to avoid it. "Figured," He says in response to the force field. I admire the view of his profile as he stares up toward the sky, eye tense, deep in thought. His hair is out of place, the way I like it best. He notices my gaze.

"What?" He says, his voice soft.

I shake my head "Nothing." I look down, as if he can read my mind when I'm looking at him. "I'm going to lay down." I borrow into bed when I get inside. It's late, and I'm physically exhausted, but not very tired mentally. Hormones have shifted my sleeping patterns; and the events of the past few days have made sleep even more difficult.

A while later, I find myself tossing and turning. I can see Peeta's shadow from the balcony, and I know I won't be able to sleep without him here, but I don't want to disturb him. After what seems like an eternity, I hear the balcony door slide close, and feel his weight on the other side of the bed. I turn toward him and turn up one side of my mouth, just a little.

"Still awake?" He asks.

"I can't sleep without you," I admit.

"Hmm, what will you do when we get home?" He says. His voice is at first light and playful, but trails off into something darker. Into thoughts of Gale and I together, maybe. Or thoughts of us never getting home at all. It's hard to tell which.

A surge of emotion washes over me when I feel his warmth around me. I'm so happy he is here now that I can't stop myself from leaning up and kissing him on the lips. He returns the kiss eagerly, and we pull away and reconnect several times. The sexual undertones, if there are any, are much more subtle this time than they were on the train. Our mouths meet only lightly; connecting with both sweetness and sadness. We separate eventually, and I bury myself in his nook. _It must be the hormones, _I assure myself as I'm drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, that tension between us is back, but neither of us talks about the kissing. After all, we do it for the camera nearly every day, as we did during the games. I'm still surprised when the whole day passes without Peeta mentioning anything about it. There's a glint of happiness in his eyes all day, though, the spark of a newfound motivation to keep going. It reminds me of the one I saw in the cave in the arena.

Effie knocks in vain because she lets herself in before either of us have a chance to answer. "Today is another big day! Have you looked at your schedules?" Silence. Again, neither of us has. She knows we rarely do, but still asks every time. "Today is when your admirers select _the_ _dress_!"

I can see that Effie is especially excited for this. That makes sense, I think, reminded of the Capitol weddings I've seen on TV. The biggest fuss of the whole event always seems to be the ornate, obnoxious dress the bride wears. The day is a whirlwind of a circus, as usual. The only thing I like about these "big" days is getting time to spend with Cinna. At first, a new, rather snobby stylist was prepping me each morning or afternoon. A few days in, Cinna was there instead, to my absolute delight. He picked me up and twirled me around that first day, reunited with his Girl on Fire, and then chastised himself when he remembered he shouldn't be spinning around a pregnant girl. I was so happy to see him, I didn't mind at all. He dresses me especially outlandish today, apologizing as I groan. "I know, I know," he says. "Everyone demanded something big for the dress selection day. Forgive me." I wanted to ask him what he knows, if anything, about the Capitol's plans for us after the wedding, which is to be next week. But I'm worried I'll get him in trouble or say too much, so I hug him tightly and stay quiet.

Peeta is dressed in a beautiful suit when I'm reunited with him in front of our car. He smiles when he sees me, and it is different than usual. Hopeful. I return his smile with the same warmth, even though I think it must somehow be a mistake. Mila and Effie accompany us on the drive to the convention center. Effie goes on and on about the dresses, asking me my opinion, and growing frustrated when I show little to no interest. When she asks Peeta, he makes up for it by saying he prefers the ball gown for sure. After, Effie quickly starts babbling away to Mila and I shoot him a look.

"You 'prefer the ball gown'?" I whisper sarcastically and add in a mocking, playful smile.

"Hey, somebody here's gotta seem like they care," he smiles and whispers back. "Besides, I think you'd look the prettiest in it."

I smile and blush lightly. After a long pause he follows up with, "Maybe not as pretty as you look now, though. That seems impossible."

I can't find it in me to be irritated or feel guilty in response to his affectionate words. Instead, my stomach seems to flip upside down, the way it might when a teenage girl sees the boy she has a crush on in a hallway at school. I couldn't know for sure; I never had a chance to experience that. But when I look up and see him smiling at me a couple minutes later, the butterflies continue, and I'm sure it's not the baby. I return his coy smile and we sit quietly happy together for the rest of the ride, as Effie babbles away to an obviously annoyed Mila.

When we pull up to the convention center, Effie and Mila hurry out, explaining that Peeta and I should make a slow, exaggerated exit for the crowd. Effie leans in and whispers something about the mass of people being even larger than it was in the square and waves to Peeta to step out first. He does, and then in a silly, dramatic way that makes giggle, extends his hand toward mine and escorts me out. The crowd roars.

When I step out, I can hardly make anything out among the camera flashes, and I wave blindly to the crowd. I look over at Peeta to see he has a mischievous look on his face, and he suddenly but gently pulls me backwards. I gasp as he catches me on the small of my back and proceeds to kiss me passionately for the crowd. He never puts on this much of a show and I can tell he must be in a good mood. The kiss lasts a long time, but it's totally different than the one in the privacy of the suite last night. I'm almost laughing at his dramatics when we pull away, and for once, I flash the crowd a genuine smile.

Because of the narrow brick corridor, the car couldn't get any closer than the edge of the building. An interviewer seems to appear out of nowhere and follows us on our long walk to the doors of the massive convention center. Peeta and I have an unspoken agreement that he'll deal with this sort of thing, as he's so much better at it than I am. After a couple cookie cutter questions that I've answered a dozen times before, I'm too bored to even bother responding. Instead I stare out at the park across from the center. It's one of few places in this city that seems authentic. No skyscrapers or massively wide steel structures; but grass, flowers, trees. I long to stretch out near a large but welcoming rock I see in the center of the park.

"Katniss?" The interviewer summons me, and I ask him if he could repeat the question, please. After giving a prototype answer my gaze drifts away again, this time landing on the train station kitty corner to the convention center. I can tell the workers are from the Districts, not the Capitol. Capitol citizens are very distinctive with their tattooed or colored skin and wild hair, and they are not. Their tired, forlorn expressions confirm it. I watch them load wooden crates into a train car. The way they move is mechanical, piling box after box into crates. They must feel my stare, because one looks up and catches my glance, his eyes full of empathy, for just one second.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my mind.

My head spins, and I have to force my feet to continue moving. _The train. Going where we want to be. District workers who might be willing to help. _I see that the crates are labeled with various District numbers. A way out.

Serendipitously the interviewer has finished with us at almost precisely this moment. After a dazzling smile and thank-you, I tug at Peeta's arm. He looks back at me with alarm and concern. I pull him closer and whisper to him, trying to look as though I'm simply sharing a lovers' secret. "Peeta. The train." I nod toward the tracks. I watch his face study the workers and evolve with understanding of my implication. He meets my gaze again, and I can tell he wants to talk about it, wants to figure out here and now if we've found a potential way out. The clicking of heels breaks our gaze and I see Effie scuttling toward us frantically.

"We're about to go in! What are you two doing back here?"

In response, Peeta kisses me again and gently rubs the bump in my stomach, keeping consistent with his overly-romantic show. "Just wanted a little time alone, that's all," he says after, as if he just can barely stand to pull away from my lips. "Ready, sweetheart?"

I take his arm and, thinking of the train, give the Capitol citizens my second real smile of the day.


End file.
